It’s All Relative on the Hellmouth
by dellacouer
Summary: Harry Potter finds a new relative in Sunnydale. PostVoldemort, Harry needs a distraction. Hope Uncle Rupert can help a powerful Harry before the power takes control. Complete.
1. The Letter

Title: It's All Relative on the Hellmouth

Author: Della Couer

Summary: Harry Potter discovers a new relative that lives in Sunnydale. Having just defeated Voldemort, Harry's desperate for the distraction. Hope Uncle Rupert can help a seriously powerful Harry before the power takes control.

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Chapter 1: The Letter

Rupert Giles stared forlornly at the large barn owl perched on his desk. It wasn't his owl. It was a loaned owl. And, the bird in question didn't seem very pleased with the arrangement either. Giles, as he had come to be called in the States, was seated in a desk chair. His tatty green robe covered his pajama pants and stained t-shirt. It was ten a.m. on a Tuesday and, he had nowhere to be.

"Damn it all," he muttered. The bird ruffled its feathers impatiently. "I wasn't talking to you," snarled Giles. The bird clicked its beak at his remark, and turned away from the man. Giles examined the folded parchment before him. He rolled it over in his hands. To send or not to send, that is the question. It had been so many years. Was there even a point anymore?

"She's only a _half _sister," Giles explained to the bird. The bird ignored the odd human's vocalization. "And, I was always ten years older than her. Never really knew her, right? God, I spent more time with Petunia." Giles cringed as he thought of his step-sister. Thank whatever gods were listening that he didn't share any of her blood. He had been five when his mother had married Petunia's father. He hadn't liked her then. Prissy and Proper. Prissy Proper Petunia. Hadn't that been what he'd called her? Always fussing over the spotlessness of the carpet in her room, the sanitized tea-set. Enough to make anyone sick. Giles stood up and began pacing his apartment.

"I haven't even heard from her since she was sixteen. Bloody hell- twenty years ago." Giles looked at his reflection in the mirror. Had it really been that long? He hadn't actually seen Lily since she was twelve. It had only been the occasional owl post those last few years. She had been busy learning Magic at Hogwarts, and he had been busy...falling into the Dark Arts. He vaguely remembered sending her a belated birthday gift on her sixteenth birthday. After that nothing.

So, why was he writing now? So far he had done an excellent job of ignoring his family. He had gone so far as to avoid even the news of the English wizarding world. Why did he want to give in now?

Because he was lonely, dammit.

Life had taken an unexpected turn. He'd been fired from his destiny. How did that happen? He wasn't a watcher anymore. His real father had been a watcher. His grandmother had been a watcher. And now, he wasn't one anymore. Yet, he still felt the same pull he had always felt. So he had stayed in Sunnydale. But the various creatures of the night hadn't made the days any less lonely. Buffy and Willow were getting registered for classes, embracing college life. And, this was only the beginning, they would be gone even more once school started. Xander was busy doing...God knows what. And he, Rupert Giles, was drinking cold tea in a bathrobe. Perhaps this was all insanity. Maybe he'd regret it later. But, right now, he really wanted to talk to one of the few people he had ever cared about. His baby sister Lily. Even if it was just in letters. Anything to keep the feeling of uselessness at bay.

Giles growled through his teeth as he drew a small silver dagger from his desk. He picked his finger with the blade, and used the tip to draw a small rune on the parchment. He watched at the blood was soaked in the paper, leaving the page as blank as it had been. Now, Giles wasn't a wizard, but he did know certain branches of natural magic. The rune he had made would insure that only those of his blood would be able to read the letter. Not only that, but the letter would be drawn to his blood. This would insure that Lily would get the letter, even if she had changed her name...or good lord, she could even be married now. Frankly, he didn't trust these overgrown carrier pigeons.

With a forceful hand, Rupert Giles attached his terribly short letter to the owl's leg and watched with resignation as it flew away. The bird seemed rather happy to be gone. Probably glad to escape the irritable muggle. Now he had nothing to do but wait.

In the smallest bedroom of Number four Privet drive was a very unhappy young man. Technically he could be called just a man, the _young_ business could be dropped. He was seventeen, and in the wizarding world that made him an adult. And, Harry Potter was a wizard. Not only _a _wizard, he could be considered _the _wizard. Famous Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived, now considered the Man-who-Defeated. He didn't look much like a hero now. He lay on his small bed, his clothes rumpled, frowning at the ceiling. He was so bleeding tired. As was to be expected, or so Dumbledore had claimed.

"One can not have such a severe change in one's magic without feeling the consequences," Dumbledore had warned gravely.

Of course the real question was, what would an adult Harry Potter be doing at Privet Drive? Since he had been seven, he had sworn that as soon as he was an adult he would run as far away from the Dursleys as he could. This feeling had intensified when entering the wizarding world. He had fully intended to have his bags packed and ready as soon as the clock chimed midnight on his seventeenth birthday. Yet, here it was two weeks after the date, and he was still at number four. His relatives had been unpleasantly surprised, but not as surprised as Harry himself.

Maybe it was because he was still so tired. But that wasn't it. Maybe it was because his original plan had been yanked out from under him. He had always expected to maybe spend a bit of time at the Weasleys, and get his new lodgings settled. Ron had even offered it a few times. But that was out of the question now. Still, that didn't stop him from getting a room at the Leaky Cauldron. He could probably even stay there until the semester started. It wasn't as if he didn't have the money. But just the thought of staying in a place that was so central to the wizarding world made him feel queasy. He'd be stared at by every witch or wizard who was out to do their shopping. Indeed, staring was probably the least they could do. If he never met another member of the 'Harry Potter Fan Club' it would be too soon. He didn't want that, any of that. All and all, the combination of these things left Harry feeling as if he had been cut a drift.

Then there was the grief. Grief, what kind of word was that? As if five letters could encompass the raw feeling of emptiness clawing at his gut. And then there were the words. Those words that everyone always said. "I heard about your friends Harry, I'm so sorry." As if those words did a thing. They didn't bring them back, they didn't make him feel any better. Yet, everyone seemed to enjoy saying them.

Harry looked up when a sound of rustling feathers drew his attention. He hoped it wasn't another letter from Dumbledore. The man seemed to have sent Harry more letters this summer than all the other years combined. Mostly just the constant questions of how he was doing, how his magic was evolving. But, the bird he saw didn't look like a school owl. Instead, his gaze met a rather large barn owl. It seemed to glare at Harry. It looked as if it had traveled a long way. He summoned a few owl treats, and conjured a dish of water for the poor bird. The owl flashed him a grateful look, and seemed to be in a better mood. He rose and shuffled forward to claim the letter.

Just has Harry was about to grasp the parchment, he felt a sharp tingling sensation in his hand. He pulled away and stared at the letter more carefully. Harry's eyes began to glow as he let his magical sight take over. He quickly saw that blood magic, a kind Harry had never seen before, had been cast upon the paper. But there was a familiar runic pattern drawn and it wasn't a threat. Rather, it was a rune meant to assure a blood connection. That was odd. That would mean that the letter could only be read by someone of the casters blood. Why would they send it to him? He didn't have any blood relatives. Except for Petunia and Dudley...and he couldn't picture either of them having the talent or interest to learn some rare kind of blood magic. Still, it couldn't harm him. So he gently removed the letter from the unfamiliar owl. The name written on the front made his heart stop. _Lily Evans_. He felt slightly guilty as he opened the letter, as if he was snooping in his mother's purse. But his curiosity was stronger than his anxiety. How could someone not know she had been married, how could they not know she was dead? The fate of Lily Potter had practically been written into song. Casting his fears aside, he sat on the edge on his bed and began to read. He began to read a very strange letter indeed.

_Dear Lily,_

_I, well I'm not sure were to start. It has been so long. I guess the first thing to do, is admit what a prat I've been. Can you forgive your old brother? At the time I thought you would be better-off without me. Now, maybe I'm getting old...but family matters. I'd really like to hear from you. I'm living in the Americas now. Sunnydale California. Please write. Even if it is just to rant at me. _

_Rupert_

Harry stared at the parchment. He should be astounded. He should be shocked. But he really wasn't. Most kids would be surprised to find they had an unknown uncle. But so much of Harry's past had been secrets he couldn't find the energy to be surprised.

But wait...the uncle was writing to his mother? The poor guy didn't know she was dead. Should he write back and tell him? How do you write that? Loss of any kind hurt. This Harry knew. Could he just write a letter and tell the bloke that this attempted reunion was over before it started? That he had lost his chance, Lily was dead. It just seemed too cruel to put into words.

Feeling some energy for the first time in weeks, Harry jumped out of bed. He hurried down the stairs and found Aunt Petunia in the kitchen.

"Aunt Petunia?" asked Harry. The woman paused in her cleaning. "Do I have an uncle Rupert?" His aunt froze at the name, her back tensing.

"No. I don't know anyone by that name," squeaked Petunia. Harry shook his head, that was the same tone she used when she claimed not to have a nephew named Harry.

"Thanks Aunt Petunia," said Harry. He headed back up the stairs.

So, he had an uncle. It was an interesting proposition...more than that, an uncle who didn't seem to know much about the wizarding world. He must know something, because of the use of owl post, and the blood magic, but he didn't seem up to date on current events. Harry felt a strong desire to meet his strange uncle Rupert. His grin faded. No doubt it would be better to give him the news of Lily in person. Thus, Harry Potter had a plan for the first time in weeks. And he wasn't about to lose this purpose now. He looked around his room. He shrunk his trunk and pocketed it. He also grabbed his magical Gringrott's money bag. He felt around in a drawer and pulled out a wand holster. He attached the dragon hide to his forearm, and watched as he put him wand in the holder. Before his eyes, the holster and wand disappeared. Neat. He still loved watching that. The holster had been a gift from Remus and few members of the Order. Even though he'd had it for months now, he still loved watching the disappearing trick. Harry examined his bedroom. There was nothing else to take.

"Sunnydale, here I come,"whispered Harry. And, with a barely a clap of disapparation, Harry Potter, the most powerful wizard in England, left his home in Surrey and apparated halfway around the world. Something that was impossible...except for him. But then, Harry had a habit of making the impossible possible.

-

A/N: Shorter introductory chapter. Following chapters are longer.


	2. Welcome to Sunnydale!

Chapter 2: Welcome to Sunnydale!

Harry's emerald eyes flashed open. He was standing facing the sunrise. The light cut through what looked like distant mountains, sending warm rays onto the dry land surrounding the town. Harry's forehead crinkled. Odd, it had been late in the afternoon when had left. Yet, it seemed to be only just morning in Sunnydale. Having never traveled out of England before, Harry hadn't considered time zones and such. He shrugged, he supposed it didn't matter, just left more time for him to visit with his uncle. Harry turned away from the sun slowly, he let his eyes slid over the land. So, this was California. He had seen pictures of it on the telly. He grinned softly. He should have done this sooner. Travel was very enjoyable...and he hadn't even done anything yet.

Harry had arrived off to the side of the "Welcome to Sunnydale" sign. It was usually difficult for witches and wizards to apparate to a place they had never been to. But, Harry didn't seem to have much trouble, so he didn't question it. He always tended to pop up near the welcome signs though, wasn't certain why he did that. Harry watched the sun rising as he strolled into the town. A few cars were on the road, but other than that the town seemed deserted. Small shops littered the downtown, but none of their lights were on. Must still be too early.

Harry watched as one of the large American cars rumbled past. He needed to find a way to locate his Uncle Rupert. Luckily or unluckily, depending how you looked at it, Harry had been raised in the muggle world. Which meant he wasn't completely useless when it came to doing things the 'normal' way. Ahead of him he spotted a phone booth, a large directory perched inside. Harry hurried over to it, shutting the glass door behind him.

"Evans...hmmm," mumbled Harry aloud. He flipped to the Es and scanned the list. Evans, Ann. Evans, Sam and Lisa. That was it? Two listings for Evan, and neither seemed to be his uncle. Maybe he was unlisted?

As Harry thought about his next move, he let his feet wander through the town. He was heading eastward, moving into a busier shop district, when a peculiar feeling started. Harry stopped dead, his spine stiffening in surprise. He could feel energy crackling on the edges of his skin. Dark Energy. He let his eyes glaze, his magical sight taking over. What he saw made him stumble backwards. A tendril of dark magic seemed to be winding its way through the town. Looking more closely, he noticed other such lines of dark magic seemed to be spreading out from a central point. Harry worriedly wondered what might have caused this. He moved to the left until he was out of the direct contact with the energy. The sparking sensation on his skin stilled. He could still sense the dark magic. It was thick in the air. Old Dark Magic.

Harry was feeling slightly winded now. His short walk had been refreshing, but the contact with that energy and been draining. He also needed to remember that his magic hadn't adjusted yet. He should probably find somewhere to lay down and recharge. But Harry didn't feel like resting. He had been resting all summer. He was in strange place, and he wanted to enjoy it. Even _if_ his uncle's town was saturated with dark magic. So Harry chose the next best thing to rest. Caffeine. Lots and lots of caffeine.

A small coffee shop was opening up to his left. Coffee shops always needed to open early. Harry walked over to the counter.

"We'll be ready in about fifteen minutes," the harried employee said while putting beans in a grinder. Harry nodded. Leaving the counter Harry took a seat in one of the overstuffed chairs that littered the room. He concentrated on his breathing. His magic was bubbling inside of him. He rolled his fingers and noted that small sparks seemed to come off this skin. His magic was eager, excited. Harry breathed deeply. The part of Voldemort inside him must have been energized by the exposure to dark energy. It hadn't enjoyed any such magic while residing in Harry's body. Breathe. Breathe. He could control this. He had too.

A few minutes later Harry opened his eyes, glad that the magical burst had subsided. Looking up, he realized that the coffee shop wasn't empty anymore. He rose and stood behind a petite blonde woman who was ordering.

"I'll have a mocha, lots of whipped cream...and the biggest size you got." The man at the counter nodded. Another employee turned to Harry.

"And you sir," he asked.

"Tea...if you sell it here."

"Of course sir. What kind. Herbal, Chai, Green,"

"Do you have regular tea?" interrupted Harry.

"Yes sir. Milk, sugar, lemon? Any flavorings...hazelnut, raspberry, peach, mint"

"Just some lemon." Harry shook his head. The employee seemed a little frustrated with Harry's lack of originality, but hurried off to fill the order.

"Never been here before?" asked the blonde next to him. She smirked in amusement. Harry ruffled his hair and grinned a sheepish expression on his face.

"No, just dropped into town actually. Who would have thought you Yanks would have found a way to mess around with a bloody cup of tea?" The girl's smile widened, then she burst out laughing. Harry eyed her curiously.

"Sorry, I have a friend who sounds just like you," giggled the girl.

"Ah, well so I'm not alone. That is a comfort." The girl nodded. Having ordered a much more simple order, Harry's tea arrived first. He used his special Gringott's bag to pay in American money. He nodded to the girl and resumed his seat. He sipped the tea, and cringed. He had suspicions that the man at the counter had slipped some sort of flavor in his tea. He frowned at the cup. He was going to miss tea while on this visit. Still, he sipped the beverage for the caffeine alone.

Harry looked up when the blonde woman plopped down in the chair next to his.

"Hope you don't mind but I hate to get all buzzy on my own," the woman sipped her beverage with obvious relish.

"Not at all," replied Harry.

"You're English right? What are you doing in Sunnydale?" She took another sip, eying him over her cup.

"I'm here to meet my uncle actually."

"Meet?" the girl cocked her head at him.

"Yes, some sort of falling out with the family, never met him," explained Harry.

"What's his name?" questioned the girl. She twirled her hair with a finger. American girls were certainly forward, Harry thought with a smile.

"Evans." Harry replied.

"Sorry can't say I know any Evans here." She leaned back in her chair. Harry nodded. He took another sip of his tea. He glared at the cup. The woman laughed again.

"I'm told they don't make good tea," she explained. Harry nodded. They both took another sip.

-

-

-

Buffy watched the young man before her. He seemed like a nice sort. Reminded her of Giles is some ways. Maybe it was a British thing. He was good looking too, if only he dressed better. He was wearing some ratty t-shirt and jeans that were too large. Thankfully he was wearing a belt. How that whole 'pants hanging down' thing had become a style she didn't know.

"Is something wrong?" the guy asked. Buffy flushed a bit realizing she had been starring at him for a few moments.

"No, I was just wondering, is that some British fashion?" Harry looked down at the clothes he was wearing. Some of Dudley's old cast-offs. He supposed he did look like a bum.

"No, I guess I didn't really dress my best. This is all a spur of the moment decision."

"You decided on the spur of the moment to fly to America and see an Uncle you've never met before." Buffy stared at the strange young man.

"Yep, that's about right." Harry replied, his face breaking into a smile. Buffy shook her head.

"You're crazy...well crazy man I'm Buffy."

"Harry." The pair shook hands. Buffy rose to her feet.

"Running away eh?" quipped Harry.

"No, I've got to get home. I promised my mom I'd help with stuff...she's all into this bonding thing." Harry's eyes flickered with sadness for a moment. But was quickly hidden behind a half grin. Most people wouldn't have the caught the slight change in those emerald eyes. But Buffy did. She thought for a minute about questioning him...but she'd already snooped enough. With another nod she left with her coffee.

She'd have to stop at Giles's house before going home. Tonight's patrol had been rather busy. Usually she finished around three. But she had been busy all night, and some of the groups had been surprisingly organized. She had only just avoided a pair of demons who had worked as a team. A trio of vampires had also been well-trained. She was hoping this activity wasn't a trend. Buffy took another sip of her coffee. She really wanted to go home and sleep, but she'd need all her caffeine if she was going to survive a day with her mom. The elder Summers woman seemed to be mourning Buffy's passage into adulthood. Buffy had wondered why fighting demons, saving the world, and dying hadn't made her an adult in her mother eyes, but going to college did? All and all it was a quandary, but first to Giles's.

-

-

-

Later that day, a much more stylish Harry Potter stepped out of a clothing shop. He had decided to take Buffy's advice and buy an outfit to meet his uncle in. She'd had a point. So rather then the baggy ensemble he'd come to Sunnydale in, he now sported jeans that fit, and a simple Black t-shirt. The saleswoman had also talked him into buying a corduroy jacket, which was currently shrunk and in his pocket. Harry thought it was far too hot to wear a coat, but the woman at the store had said it was unseasonably cold. California weather, bizarre. Now that he was presentable, he was ready to find his uncle.

-

-

-

At one o'clock in the afternoon, Harry Potter sat sullenly in a café. He had exhausted every possible muggle method of finding Rupert Evans. It was as if the man didn't exist. He had even spent a few hours trying to see if there was a hidden magical portion of Sunnydale, like Diagon Ally, where he might find his uncle. But there didn't seem to be a wizarding population in this eerie town. Not that he could blame wizards for staying away. He often had been forced to lapse into his magical sight to avoid any more energy flows. Whatever had created so much dark magic was certainly strong, and it had been in Sunnydale for a long time.

Harry had finally taken a break in his search and had decided to have lunch. He was toying with his food wondering what magical methods he should use to find his uncle. He had never done any magical tracking before, Voldemort had always found him. A simple Point Me charm might work. But Harry really wasn't in the mood to wander around town with his wand out. He didn't know much about the American Statue of Secrecy but, he was betting you couldn't show your wand to muggles. He had been wondering if any of the books in his trunk might have a useful spell, when a familiar voice broke through his thoughts.

"Harry?" asked a female voice. Harry looked up, it was the same girl he had met at the coffee shop, this time with a red head in tow.

"Hi Buffy," replied Harry.

"Ooh, you're English," cooed the redhead.

"Down girl!" jested Buffy to her friend. The red head blushed. The tips of her ears reddened the most, forcibly reminding Harry of Ron. He glanced back down to his plate. However, Harry looked back up to see the pair pull up chairs at his table.

"Mind if you we join you?" Buffy asked. She had noticed the kid sitting all by himself, and he had looked a bit glum about it.

"Not at all." Harry smiled. "I'm guessing this isn't your mother," said Harry, his eyes resting on the other young woman.

"Oh no. This is Willow. Some sort of Art emergency occurred at the gallery. What I'd like to know, is why when she has an emergency she can ditch me, but if I have an emergency I get lectured." Buffy frowned and shook her head. The waiter arrived at that moment and took the girls' orders. Harry ordered another coke.

"So eh, how do you two know each other?" Willow questioned.

"I actually met Harry early this morning at the Espresso Pump," explained Buffy. "He had ordered an unpleasant cup of tea." Harry nodded his head in agreement. Willow smiled as well, as if she and Buffy had an inside joke. Buffy turned to Harry,

"So, why aren't you out bonding with that Uncle of yours?"

"I ah...did I mention I don't know where he lives?" Harry shrugged his shoulders.

"You really are a crazy man," exclaimed Buffy. Willow nodded in agreement.

"Well I know he lives here in Sunnydale, he wrote me a letter. Well, actually he wrote my mother a letter." The two girls raised their eyebrows.

"What's his name again?" Buffy asked.

"Evans, Rupert Evans." The two girls stared thoughtfully.

"I bet I could find him in the city files. Get an address," stated a thoughtful Willow.

"Really?!" said Harry.

"Yeah," Willow reached into a bag that had been slung over her shoulder. She pulled out a laptop and placed it gingerly on the table. Harry eyed it curiously. He didn't know much about technology, his years at Hogwarts had stunted his knowledge of muggle machines. But, this computer looked nicer than the one Dudley had. Willow smiled at his interest.

"You a computer geek too?" she asked.

"No, I'm afraid not. I have no clue how those things work. But it looks like a nice one," replied Harry.

"Don't you use computers at your school?" Buffy questioned.

"No," said Harry trying to downplay how odd that must be.

"Well not to worry. Willow here is a computer wizard." Harry, who had been taking a drink, coughed at her words. The two girls looked at him curiously for a moment, before turning back to the computer.

"So Harry tell us more about yourself," questioned the blonde.

"Well...uh what do you want to know?" asked a confused Harry. It was a rare occasion when someone didn't know (or at least think they knew) everything about him. He found he enjoyed the feeling, although it was very different. What sort of information did normal people swap.

"Well, how old are you?" Buffy asked rolling her eyes. This kid was kinda quiet.

"I turned seventeen a few weeks ago," stated Harry. "You?" he inquired.

"I'm eighteen, just graduated. You still got a year left?"

"Uh, I don't really know."

"What do you mean you don't know?" voiced Willow, she looked at him from the other side of the computer.

"Well, see my school has these tests you take your seventh year. You have to pass them to graduate, and I took them last year and passed. I guess I could go back...but I don't really want to. And, there isn't much point." Harry thought over what he'd said. That was pretty close. He had taken his NEWTs last year. Largely because he didn't know if he'd live to reach his seventh year, and for some reason he had wanted to know his scores. It was one normal thing he had wanted for his life.

"What kind of school did you go to?" asked Willow. She didn't know much about the British schooling system, but this didn't sound like anything she's heard of.

"It was a boarding school," Harry explained. Willow nodded.

"What are you going to do now?" Buffy asked.

"I...I guess I don't know. One day at a time and all that. What do you two have planned now that you have graduated?"

"We're both going to UC Sunnydale."

"College...right?"

"Yeah." The pair of girls looked up as the waiter arrived with their food. Buffy grabbed a fry from her plate and began munching. Willow ignored her food, and continued to type into the computer. After a few moments, Willow looked up.

"Harry are you sure your Uncle lives here?"

"That's what his letter said."

"Well there isn't a record of a Rupert Evans paying taxes in Sunnydale. The city doesn't have any mention of him." Harry frowned. Where was that letter? He looked at the two girls and noticed that both were busy with their lunches, Willow's eyes still focused on the computer. Harry moved his hand behind his back and wriggled his fingers. After a moment, where there had only been air, appeared the letter his uncle had written. He lifted the letter up to the table. Yep, the letter said Sunnydale. And, the name was definitely Rupert.

"Is that the letter?" asked Buffy. Harry nodded.

"He's here in Sunnydale. His name's Rupert...I guess it's a lost cause. Maybe I should have just written him," thought Harry aloud.

"How can you write him if you don't have his address?" questioned Willow.

"Oh yeah...eh-oops. Maybe he'll write again with more information."

"So...are you going home?" Buffy asked. Harry sighed, he didn't want to.

"I don't know. Maybe I'll try a few more random attempts. Perhaps I'll get lucky and find him. Fate kinda owes me." Harry said gravely.

Buffy nodded her own head in understanding.

Harry and the two girls spent the rest of the time with idle conversation. Willow was interested in learning more about England, and Buffy seemed to be interested in finding out what music and movies Harry was interested in. Harry did his best to answer but would often respond...'I don't know.' This had struck the girls as interesting. Particularly since he hadn't even heard of the most popular movie of the summer. When they asked about other movies, they were often met with equal confusion. Harry tried his best to cover for his obvious ignorance, but he knew he was coming off as rather odd. Harry smiled to himself. He might never be normal, but here he was being treated as if he were normal. It was welcome experience. Soon the girls had to leave, and Harry paid for their lunch. Their protests had disappeared, when they eyed the money he pulled out of the sack.

"You might want to think about getting a wallet." Buffy said. To which Harry shrugged.

"Ooh...I know if you are staying in town for a bit why don't you come to see the movie with us. It's playing at the local theater." Willow grinned at the other two. She seemed really happy with her spur of the moment idea.

"Sounds good," nodded Harry.

"How about we meet up later for the...what time was the showing?"

"5:15," responded Buffy.

"Where's this theater?" asked Harry. Willow giggled and pointed a hand behind her head. Harry looked over her shoulder and spotted, the bright building with signs advertising movies. He had to admit, he was more then a little excited to go. He'd never seen a movie in a theater before. The Durselys had never taken him, obviously, and Hermione had always meant to take him...but it was too late for that now. Harry's face fell as he remembered Hermione's outrage that he had never been to the cinema, and her determination that when the war was over she would take him to one.

"Are you okay?" Buffy asked. Harry's face had lost most of it's color, a frown pulling on his lips.

"Fine." Harry smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. Buffy quirked her lips at him.

"So we'll see you at the movies?" asked Willow. Harry nodded his head. The two girls rose.

"Well, we'll see you then," replied Buffy as she and Willow walked away. Harry watched them go. He hadn't meant to make the carefree atmosphere go away, just memories seemed to catch him at odd moments. And, sometimes it was hard to keep the heartache at bay. Harry stayed seated in his chair. He watched as other people hurried on with their lives. He'd never had the opportunity to just relax out in the open for a long time. He resolved to do just that.

-

Buffy and Willow were walking back to Buffy's house. Willow shot a glance back at Harry.

"He's cute huh, and I love the accent," confided Willow

"Willow! What will Oz say."

"O posh, I wonder if Oz would come with us tonight? He has weird taste in movies."

"Shocker there Will, you wanted a weird smart boyfriend. You got one. I bet if you tell him that the new British boy with the cute accent is coming with us he'll come." Buffy suggested.

"Oh...you think so. Oz isn't much with the uber-jealousy."

"He's still a guy." Buffy huffed.

"What's up with the whole men are bastards kick, are we becoming militant feminists and you didn't tell me?" Willow giggled and Buffy rolled her eyes.

"No...I'm sorry I guess I'm still a little upset from Angel withdrawal." Buffy rubbed her arms. He had been gone for a month. A very long month.

"I'm sorry Buff, really I am..." stuttered Willow. Buffy shrugged. Then, Willow's eyes lit up. "Hey I'm taken but maybe you and Brit boy might hit it off."

"I don't think so. That isn't why you invited him is it...you don't usually..."

"Eh, well, why not, he's cute and sweet, smart if not a bit out of touch, and...hey he sat with us for an hour in the bright sunlight, so pretty sure he's not a vampire. A whole boatload of pluses there," argued Willow.

"It's just...I mean he seems nice...but..."

"But what?" Willow tilted her head as she watched her friend.

"I don't think he's really my type...he seems too... _normal_, and he's just a kid."

"Buffy," Willow sighed at her friend. "He's only a year younger, and what's wrong with a flesh and blood normal guy, with a pulse!" Willow said with some exasperation.

Buffy leaned her head back and kept walking. She had no desire to explain her thoughts to Willow. How could she explain. Angel had been her true love. She didn't think she'd ever fall in love agin. It was enough to make any girl feel depressed.

-

Back at the café, Harry grumbled to himself as he sipped the tea he had ordered. Bleck! Okay now he was really worried. It wasn't as if he was addicted to tea, but it had always been a staple of his life. Whether in the muggle world or wizarding world, there had been tea. Yet, no one in the bloody continent seemed to be able to make a decent cup. He wasn't even certain how what he was currently sipping could be even classified as tea.

However, as Harry leaned back, he managed to overhear a conversation. And a word caught his attention.

"Mrs. Cather...?"

"Yes dear."

"We're out of that special tea." Tea. Harry perked up and looked at the two women who were talking. It appeared as if the owner was talking with one of the waitresses. Harry listened closer.

"What tea dear?" the older woman muttered as she straightened the menus.

"You know the special tea. For that British guy who comes here."

"Oh, Rupert's tea...oh dear. He's playing again soon too. I promised him that tea. He's very picky about it," stated the owner. Harry stopped dead. The tea didn't matter. A British man named Rupert? How many British men named Rupert could this town have? Harry left his table and hurried up to the owner.

Excuse me ma'am," interrupted Harry. The owner turned to him.

"Yes, young man?" her eyes looked at him questioningly.

"I couldn't help but overhear, but were you mentioning a man named Rupert."

"Yes, Rupert Giles. He comes here from time to time to play. Charming man, his next set is scheduled soon, you can check the calender near the door." With those words the woman hastened away to help a young waitress who was balancing three trays, all of which looked ready to collapse.

"Giles?" Harry said aloud.

Harry hurried back to his table and left more than enough money to cover the bill and the tip. Leaving the café, his thoughts were on his uncle. An uncle who was growing stranger by the minute. Why would he have changed his name? Harry located another telephone booth, and this time searched under the Gs. Harry's finger ran along impatiently. Ghriss. Gielson. ...Giles, Rupert. Harry smiled at the page. That had to be his uncle. Harry examined the address, 323 Roulo drive. Harry memorized the address, and with sure steps, he walked to the ally behind him. Harry looked around cautiously, and with a blink became invisible. Although you couldn't see it, Harry Potter was smiling. Once again he was on the trail of a mystery. Without a sound, an invisible Harry Potter disapparated and appeared in front of 323 Roulo drive. He wondered where this mystery would lead.


	3. The Meeting of Family

A/N: Dear readers, please enjoy.

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* * *

Rupert Giles was reading through one of his larger books, which was saying something considering he had tomes that were over 1,000 pages long. Buffy had come to him early this morning. Apparently the vampiric and demonic activity had been more organized the other night. It was a definite cause to worry, as it was unusual for vampires to work together unless there was a powerful vampire pulling the strings. The fact that demons were also influenced...well it was unsettling. Thus, Giles had pulled out one of his volumes to see if perhaps any rituals were scheduled for the near future. It was a long shot, but he'd prefer to know what was coming.

He was turning the page, when he heard a knock on his door. 'Who could that be?' he wondered. No one he knew knocked. Buffy and the other Scoobies seemed to be unable to grasp the concept. He hoped it wasn't another salesman. Giles slowly walked to the door. He wasn't certain if he was glad for this intrusion or not. His research attempt was probably hopeless, and dull as dust, but at least it kept his mind occupied. His attention had been busy lately, focused instead on a certain letter, and an owl that was probably winging its way across the Atlantic.

-

Giles opened the door. What he saw surprised him. A young man with messy black hair and glasses stood on his step. His hands were empty of the ususal sales paraphernalia that most young men who came to his door held. The boy looked up at him quizzically. Shaking his head he gave Giles a slight smile.

"Would you be Rupert Giles?" questioned the young man. Giles stopped short at the boy's accent. His first thought, had been that perhaps the council had sent someone to him. But, taking a closer look, he deemed this impossible. The boy looked far too young, and he wasn't dressed in the traditional watcher uniform that Quentin preferred. His black t-shirt and jeans wouldn't have impressed the Watchers at all.

"Ah yes, how may I help you?" questioned Giles, his voice still cautious. He leaned against his door frame staring hard at the young man.

"This might sound strange, but you wouldn't happen to be related to a Lily Evans...would you?" Giles's hear stopped beating.

"L-lily," he stuttered. "Yes...why?"

"Might I come in?" probed the boy. Giles looked outside. Well the sun was still out...so not a vampire.

"Sure come in," welcomed Giles. His eyes took in the boy as he entered. He was somewhat short for his age, and slender. Yet, he seemed to have some muscle. A healthy young man from what he could see. Eighteen, nineteen maybe. He seemed to hesitate as he looked around, as if searching for something. Giles had better be on his guard, daylight didn't mean everything.

"I seem to be at a disadvantage, you know my name but I don't know yours."

"Harry Potter." Giles nodded. Giles took a seat in a chair and indicated for Harry to do the same, which he did. As he sat, he twisted his hands into his lap twisting his fingers slightly. He took a breath and looked up. Giles noticed a somber quality to his eyes. His heart stirred with worry.

"I'm not really certain where to start." Harry stated.

"I find it is best to start at the beginning," said Giles. Something about this boy made him a little nervous. He hadn't noticed it before. But, now that they were seated facing each other, he felt a curious tingling running down his spine. It was making him more than a little disconcerted.

"Well...I guess this is it." Harry reached in his pocket, Giles tensed but relaxed when he realized that the boy was only bringing out a piece of parchment. He unfolded it and handed it to Giles. A familiar name, written in a familiar hand looked back at him. _Lily Evans. _

"What are you doing with this!" demanded Giles. He shot the boy a panicked look.

"It...eh, came to me in the mail." replied Harry.

"How...?" Giles stared at the boy. This Harry character wasn't anyone he knew. He didn't look anything like him. Black hair, slight build, green eyes...the eyes. Giles stopped and looked into the boy's eyes. They were emerald green. A bright green. Just like Giles's mother's eyes had been, just like Lily's.

"Lily was my mother," Harry said softly. Giles leaned back in his chair. Lily. He hadn't missed the past tense. Lily _was _his mother.

"I'm sorry for barging in like this." Harry rubbed his hands nervously. "I just thought it would be better if I...well if you heard in person." Harry looked over at his uncle. The man stared into space. A sad, heartbroken look etched on his face.

"I...how did it happen?"

"Um, well. She was killed sixteen years ago, murdered by Voldemort." Harry thought he said this rather calmly, but his voice still radiated the pain of this event. Giles lifted his palm to his forehead.

"Six-sixteen years ago." Giles looked around blankly. How? Murdered? So long ago and he had never even known. "Uh...this voldemort– he sounds familiar." Giles finally managed to say.

"He was...you do know about the wizarding world don't you?" Harry questioned. Giles nodded absently. "Well he was a dark wizard who was terrorizing England, first for eleven years. Then he was stopped, to an extent. He was reborn four years ago, and has recently been killed. He's gone for good this time."

"I've, well I've stayed away from the news of home. I--" Giles shot the boy a look. This was his nephew. God. How the boy must hate him. He'd never even met the lad.

"How...how old were you when it happened." Giles asked, concern filling his words. Harry looked at his uncle surprised. He had expected for the man to be interested in Voldemort, the wizarding world, or maybe his mother's life before her death. But instead this man seemed interested in him. It was a decidedly different attitude from his other blood relatives.

"When I was one, I'm afraid I don't remember much about her...I've learned a bit from some of her friend, and my father's friends."

"Did you live with, uh where did you go after?" Giles rubbed his chin.

"Um, I moved in with the Durselys."

"Who?"

"Um, Petunia and her family." Harry explained. Giles shot the boy a glance. Harry wasn't certain what the look had meant.

"So...I gather you are a wizard than," said Giles. The boy nodded. "Hogwarts?" Giles asked.

"I was...not certain I'm going back." Harry shrugged his shoulders at his Uncle's curious look. "Last year was a bad year. Voldemort attacked Hogwarts, I lost some friends. I don't need to go back. So, I don't think I will." Harry neglected to mention a great deal of last year. He also neglected to mention some of the reasons that would no doubt bring him back to England.

"So...what are your plans...?" Giles asked. Harry smiled sadly.

"Don't worry, I'm not planning on crashing here. I just thought I'd visit. I was a little curious. You are not a wizard, and yet you used blood magic on that letter. How?" But Harry stopped when Gile's head shot up.

"You're more than welcome to stay here...if you want," the older man said firmly. Harry couldn't stop the smile from crossing his face. He'd spent all his life as a burden to his relatives. But, his Uncle seemed almost pleased by his presence. Still, Harry had no intention of wearing out his welcome. He had no intention of being a burden again.

"But, about the magic, well that's a little complicated," said Giles. "How about some tea while I explain." Harry shot Giles a cautious look.

"Real tea?" he questioned. Giles grinned.

"Real Tea, all the way from England." Harry smiled

"Good, I've already ordered two cups today and couldn't drink either one." Giles laughed at that. The pair went into the small kitchen, and were soon sitting at the table sipping the hot beverage.

"Well...the basics of magic...

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An hours later, Harry leaned back in his chair and began to process all the information he had been given. His uncle had opened up a decidedly different world of magic for the young wizard. Apparently this sort of magic required people to draw magical energy from the world, rather than from themselves. They called upon beings of power, or the elements to have magic preformed. Giles reluctantly admitted that his kind of magic wasn't quiet as handy as Harry's, as it required materials and time, where as Harry only needed a wand. Still, Harry was impressed.

"It's nice to know you are fine with the whole magic element." Harry said relief coloring his words. Indeed, Harry had never met a muggle who seemed so at ease with magic. Even Hermione's parents hadn't appreciated the magical world's interference in their daughter's life. Yet, his uncle seemed quite at ease in the magical world. It was a big change from his other blood relatives. Giles seemed to pick up on Harry's relief, and shot the boy a questioning look.

"Umm, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon don't like magic much," explained Harry. Harry fidgeted a bit, Giles noted the reaction but let his questions slide.

"Jealous no doubt," Giles muttered. Harry lifted his head to argue. But Giles interrupted his thoughts. "It's more John's fault than anything." Harry shot Giles a questioning look. "John...your grandfather." Giles explained.

"Aunt Petunia didn't like to talk about her family much." Harry shrugged his shoulders. Giles frowned. He was starting to get a disturbing picture of his nephew's upbringing.

"Well, then...your grandfather's mother, your great grandmother, was a muggle-born witch. She married a muggle herself, and John didn't have any magical potential. He loved her stories of Hogwarts, told the stories to Petunia and me as well. When Lily got her letter, well he was overjoyed about it. I think Petunia never really liked the attention Lily got." Harry nodded. A few of his parents' friends had commented that Petunia was jealous of Lily, but Harry had never been able to understand that. Petunia had always hated magic or anything abnormal, why would she want to be a witch. Uncle Rupert's explanation made some sense.

"So... you aren't related to Petunia then?" Harry asked.

"No, well...not technically. My mother remarried to John Evans when I was five. Petunia was John's daughter from his first marriage, she was one I believe." Giles explained. Harry casually examined his uncle as he sipped his tea. The man didn't look anything like his mother. Perhaps it had been foolish for Harry to expect him too. When he was younger, after he had seen his parent's images for the first time, Harry had always examined his Aunt's face for a fleeting resemblance.

They sat in silence for a moment. Each wanting to keep their secrets. Giles hadn't brought up being a watcher. Harry hadn't mentioned much of his life in the wizarding world. Really, for their two hour conversation, neither had learned much about the other. Yet, as Giles surveyed the young man before him, he felt a peculiar sense of closeness. He was quiet, in a way that neither Buffy and her friends were. Very grown up as well. Again, Giles's thoughts wondered about his nephew's upbringing. 'Not as if you can talk' Giles thought to himself. 'At least Petunia didn't abandon the boy. What have you done for him?' thought Giles. Of course, the answer was a resounding nothing. He should be grateful the boy had dropped in at all. He doubted he would have bothered when he had been seventeen.

"Umm, would you like to hear more about Lily?" the boy asked speculatively.

"Yes, well and your father as well. I wasn't around much...but if you want to know anything about your family well...I'll do what I can." Harry nodded.

Giles sat and listened as the boy told him tales about his sister. How her life had gone, how it had ended. Giles was surprised to learn that Lily had married the 'prat' she had mentioned a few times in her letters. Harry told him a few tales of Marauders, and their adventures at school. He chose the stories where Lily had played a role. Giles found them all funny, and spent most of the time laughing at their adventures. He looked very interested when Harry mentioned how James and the others had became animagi to help their friend Remus.

"Too bad they didn't have the Wolfsbane potion then. Remus said they helped him not to feel so alone, but didn't help with the physical aspects of the transformation."

"Wolfbane?" Giles leaned forward curiously.

"It's a potion that allows a werewolf to keep his or her mind during the transformation. They are still a wolf, but with a human mind. Remus says if helps with the pain, and other physical hardships." Harry explained.

"Really, you wouldn't happen to know how it's made? I only ask because I know a young man who is a werewolf. We cage him during the full moons, but it is very difficult for him." Harry nodded his head sympathetically.

"It's one of the few advanced potions I learned. I could make it for him if you liked," Harry said. Giles nodded.

"Yes I'm sure he'd appreciate it." Harry glanced at the clock and jumped out of the seat as if he'd been burned.

"What's the matter?" Giles asked concernedly.

"Oh, I guess I forgot the time. I uh...well I wasn't certain I'd find you and made some plans earlier...going to the movies. I'd call and cancel...but well I don't know their numbers," confessed Harry. Giles smiled at the boy.

"You must certainly move quickly if you already have a date lined up."

"It's not like that," said Harry, blushing. "It certainly isn't an ordinary occurrence. But, I met these two girls earlier. Very kind. They even tried to help me find you. I promised I'd go to the cinema with them. I well... do you mind?" asked Harry. He surveyed the older man before him carefully. He didn't want to get on his new Uncle's bad side. But, his Uncle Rupert merely waved his hand.

"Go on, it will give me a chance to get some things done, and ready you a place to sleep. Believe it or not this couch folds into a rather comfortable bed." Harry looked up sharply.

"You mean you really want me to stay here?" he said, surprise cleary written on his face. Harry had been fully prepared to find an inn for the evening.

"I well, I'd love to have you stay. Harry. If you'd like." Giles rubbed his neck in an embarrassed manner.

"Well, are you sure I won't be in the way?" questioned Harry.

"No, the company would be a pleasant surprise," Rupert confided. Harry smiled.

"Well if you're sure–"

"I am," affirmed Giles. "Now get going before you keep those girls waiting." Harry smiled embarrassedly. He nodded to his Uncle and headed for the door. Giles showed him out. As Harry stepped outside, he gave a warning to Harry.

"Um, Harry, it might be best if you come back right after the movie. Sunnydale isn't exactly a safe place after dark." Harry turned and gave his Uncle a careful look. Remembering the dark magic that wove through the town, he nodded his head seriously.

"I'd imagine not," Harry said softly.

"What was that?"Giles asked.

"I'll be right back." Harry assured his Uncle. The man nodded hesitantly. Was it safe to allow him out? Harry was a wizard, and thus better prepared to handle the darker aspects of Sunnydale...but he couldn't help but be worried about his newly acquired nephew. Still, he supposed he couldn't do more than the other parents of Sunnydale, which was hope he got home safely. So, Giles nodded to the young wizard and watched as he walked away.

-

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Harry walked around the corner and once he was out of his Uncle's eyesight, he found a deserted spot and became invisible. It wasn't that he was worried about upsetting his uncle with magic. But, the man seemed rather well informed about the wizarding world. Instant invisibility wasn't exactly an easy ability. Most wizards couldn't manage it. That was why invisibility cloaks had been invented. He didn't want to the man asking any difficult to answer questions. It was probably silly, and over cautious. But, for Harry, this sort of covert action was second nature. In his invisible form, he apparated silently to the movie theater. He ducked into a handy alley and lifted the spell. For a small town, Harry noted that Sunnydale had a lot of alleys. As Harry stepped out into the sunshine, he spotted a redhead and a blonde looking out into the street. Harry walked up behind them.

"Looking for someone?" he asked. The blonde whipped around with startlingly quick reflexes. Harry jumped back a bit as she raised her arms. Harry's physical training lessons kicking in. He dropped to a slight fighting stance. The girl blushed slightly as she recognized Harry.

"I'll surrender, I promise," teased Harry.

"What are you doing sneaking up on us!" the blonde demanded.

"I don't sneak, you just weren't paying attention," replied Harry. Buffy rolled her eyes at this. Willow giggled at the pair of them.

"Harry I'd like you to meet Oz," Willow said. A short red haired man nodded his head to Harry. He smiled at the other young man.

"Nice to meet you," greeted Harry.

"You were almost late,"chastised Willow. Harry smiled.

"Hey, we are very serious here about movie timelyness," argued Buffy. "I need my previews, and candy."

"And popcorn, with all it's buttery goodness," added Willow. Harry examined the pair curiously.

"I thought the important thing was the movie?" questioned Harry. Oz had been shaking his head in an attempt to keep Harry from finishing his statement. The girls both turned to Harry.

"It's the experience, and the experience requires outrageously priced candy, fake yellow butter and previews." Buffy stated very firmly. Harry, taking his cue from Oz, merely shrugged his shoulders. Both girls sighed.

"Well come on, we will show you the real movie experience." Harry fallowed the trio inside. He bought a ticket, and as the girls demanded, he also bought a bucket of popcorn. He was slightly concerned about the yellow goo that they insisted on, but decided to give in . Harry noticed that Oz bought Willow's ticket, and her desired snack. His thoughts drifted to the Wesleys. He wondered if all redheads were magnetically drawn together.

They sat down in the darkened theater, Harry squeezed in-between Willow and Buffy. As the previews began, Harry's eyes took on a devious quality. Speaking quietly but still loudly enough for both girls to hear, he said,

"By the way, I found my Uncle."

"What!" both girls shouted. A bunched of 'shhs' and angry glares came their way.

"Shh...this is a theater," said Harry. The girls sent an angry glare in his direction.

"You did that on purpose," hissed Buffy. Harry merely grinned as his eyes stayed focused on the screen. Buffy pouted, but as the previews ended and the show began, her anger melted.

-

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-

After the movie was over, the four emerged from the theater.

"Mochas?" Willow questioned.

"Yes please," responded Buffy. "And, while we drink, this annoying brat can tell us how he found his uncle." Buffy shot Harry a glare. Harry ignored her. He followed the trio to the coffee shop he'd been to earlier.

"I'm afraid I'll have to join in the caffeine party another time. I said I'd be back at my uncle's after the movie. He seems to be under some impression that Sunnydale isn't safe," replied Harry casually. The gang shot each other not very discreet looks.

"Eh...imagine that," squeaked Willow.

"Oh no you're not getting out of this that easily," warned Buffy. "You spill while we sip, and then we'll walk you home to make sure you stay safe and sound." Harry shrugged. He really wasn't worried.

"Don't worry about me. But, since I guess I was a little mean, I'll treat you all to coffee."

"Yah!" Buffy cheered. "In that case get me a double mocha with extra whipped cream."

"I think I'll have a chai tea," said Willow.

"Guatemala Antigua short," added Oz. Harry nodded. Coffee was certainly complicated in the muggle world. He tried chanting the order in his head as if he was memorizing potion ingredients. He walked away still trying to keep the order right.

"Poor guy, Oz why don't you help him. I don't think he has a clue how to order that," Willow said sympathetically. Oz nodded and fallowed the dark haired boy toward the counter.

"So...what did you think?" Willow asked Buffy, raising her eyebrows suggestively.

"How many times do I have to tell you Willow, this isn't a date," Buffy said firmly. "And please tell me you didn't send away Oz to bring this up."

"Well, kinda. I mean the kid did need help with the order." Willow gazed at her friend. Her gaze searching for answers. She couldn't understand why Buffy was turning down a chance.

"Look Will," Buffy finally said, no longer able to take the Willow death glare. "In another time, if I were a normal girl, maybe it would work out. But, lets face it. We live in this world, and I'm the slayer. He's a nice guy, but I'd only get him killed." Buffy's shoulders drooped.

"Buffy, you can't think that," Willow said. She reached out and put a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder. Buffy shrugged.

"All I can take is another friend right now Will," Buffy said. Willow nodded.

Up at the counter, Harry stared helplessly at the menu. What had they wanted again? He was pretty sure Buffy had wanted a mocha. But there seemed to be so many different things. What was a mocha anyway?

"Can I help you?" the employee asked.

"Eh?"

"Need some help?" a quiet voice spoke over his shoulder. Harry turned to see Oz with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah...what did they want again?" Harry stayed silent as Oz ordered. He pulled out the money. Money was much less confusing than this. He grabbed a cup, while Oz grabbed the other two. As they walked back to the table, Harry felt a familiar sense grab his attention. He looked at Oz curiously. He paused discreetly and switched to his magic sight. It wasn't difficult to see. Harry was surprised he hadn't noticed it before. A shadow of a wolf flittered around Oz's person. Oz was a werewolf. That was an interesting development. He idly wondered if Willow knew.

"Hey what took you so long?" Buffy asked as she took her drink from his hand.

"Got distracted," Harry said. He settled into the chair they had saved for him.

"So, how'd you find your Uncle?' inquired Willow. Harry laughed, he ruffled his hair a little.

"By pure accident really," replied Harry. "Not long after you left I overheard a waitress mentioning a British man named Rupert. I figured how many British Ruperts could there be in one town. We couldn't find him because his last name wasn't Evans. He's my mother's half brother."

"Well that was lucky," said an amazed Willow.

"I guess fate really did owe you," Buffy replied. "It's kinda nice to know the bum pays you back." Buffy glared into her coffee for a moment.

"Yes...I suppose it is." Harry nodded solemnly. "Well I hate to _spill _and run as you say, but I did promise I'd be back." Harry tipped his head to the two girls. "Oz," Harry nodded to him as well. Oz returned the nod. The trio watched his departing back.

"Do you think he'll be okay?" Willow asked Buffy.

"Yeah, it's not late yet." Buffy replied. The sun hadn't set too long ago. He'd be safe to get home, she hoped.

It wasn't long before the trio split up as well. Buffy hurried home to get a few hours of sleep before her patrol, Oz walked Willow home. Harry had already returned to his Uncle's house.

-

Harry collapsed, still dressed, into the couch bed his Uncle had set up for him. He was exhausted. Was it possible to have jet lag when you hadn't ridden on a jet. Giles had given one look at the exhausted teen, and dimmed the lights. He thought about telling the boy he should change, but he supposed that the boy was a teenager, he could sleep in his clothes if he wanted to.

"I forgot about the time difference, you must have been up for almost twenty-four hours now," Giles said. Harry nodded. He curled into the blankets Giles had set out. Giles watched him for a moment. It was a strange but nice feeling having Harry here. Family. His Family. He'd given up on having that years ago.

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Harry dozed. He was starting to feel normal again for the first time in a long time. Ever since the events of last year, he'd felt like a shell. Merely going through the mechanics of the days. Harry felt normal. So, like a normal teenager, he feel asleep. He'd forgotten about his magical fluctuations. He'd forgotten about his relaxation exercises. He'd forgotten about the nightmares. He'd felt so normal that he'd wanted to pretend for just a little longer.

But Harry Potter was anything but normal.

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A/N: Well that was chapter three. I truly appreciate the reviews, you have no idea how much it means to me. I've had some sadness recently, and your reviews have really helped. As has working on the fic. I'm hoping to keep up the quick updates. As ever, the more you review the sooner I update.

Also if anyone is a fan of HP/X-men crossovers, I'd recommend a fic I recently found. Rather well done. Entitled Harry Potter and the Children of the Atom, by Classic Cowboy. Rather well done. It is a H/Hr so if that pairing bothers you, it might not be your cup of tea.

It can be found here.

http/


	4. When Harry Dreams

Chapter Four: When Harry Dreams

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Three hours after Harry had fallen asleep, Giles was still perched at his dining room table. He was attempting to do more research. But, his mind was rambling agin. This time his thoughts drifted to Lily. She was dead. It was painful. Like a cold rock lodged in his gut. The guilt was there too. But, Rupert Giles had grown accustomed to loss. He didn't whimper and wail anymore. He didn't try to drink the pain away. Although he wouldn't say no to a good scotch right now. Loss, pain, guilt, all these things developed a dull edge with time. He'd try to take joy in meeting Harry, rather than mourning the loss of a relationship with Lily. Best to keep busy until the pain receded.

Giles had decided to move the small green desk lamp down to the dining room table. He had considered moving all his things upstairs so as not to disturb Harry, but the boy had seemed dead to the world. And those books were heavy. He didn't mind only using the small lamp. The green tinged light reminded him of the late nights at the library. It was rather peaceful. The quiet of the house. The only sounds were the quiet hush of Harry's breathing and the flipping of the page. But, it was the sound of another person breathing that relaxed him the most. He wasn't alone. He spent so many hours here alone. Just the simple knowledge that another presence was near, that was more comforting than he had thought it would be.

-

-

Harry's mind was hardly at ease. The nightmares had found him again. He hadn't practiced his Occlumency. Although he didn't need to worry about blocking Voldemort's presence anymore, the calming exercise had a controlling influence on some of his nightmares. Without it, Harry was tossed headlong into a horror that wasn't his own.

"_Bring them here," his cold voice hissed. His anger was growing, and already he could feel his magic simmering. It was ready. He watched cooly as a bedraggled pair were dragged in and dropped at his feet. Their knees were spelled to the ground, making it impossible for them to rise. Yet, they didn't cower as they should. He grinned slightly. That would make this more fun. _

"_S-so, more members of the fool's order. I'm running out of space for– what's leftover. Perhaps I should send the remains to the old fool. Let him deal with the trash." The more he thought about the idea the more he liked it. He'd show the fool what happened to his precious heros. Fools all. They'd realize that by the time he was done. They'd scream it. _

_He raised his wand, marveling at the bubbling power. He began. The spells he cast were silent. Indeed he never spoke to them again. There wasn't much point. They'd been dead the moment they were brought into the room. There was no point addressing the dead. Speaking of the dead, one of them was almost ready to go. He stepped onto the cold floor. He used his wand to move the body, so that the person was lying on her back. He had come to sense death. He knew when it was nearing. He gazed into the woman's eyes. He watched as death took hold. It was a fascinating sight he had never grown tired of. Watching the moment when death came._

_He wondered what it was like to die._

_But, he would never know. He had surpassed Death._

_He examined the other body. Blood pooled around it, but the eyelids still flickered. He tired of this clinging on. He absently cast the killing curse. How odd it was. Killing didn't even require any focus now. Practice, no doubt, makes perfect. Perhaps he should practice some more._

Harry jerked awake, his breathing ragged. He fought the urge to scream. The magic was bubbling to the surface again. Red sparks seemed to jump around his skin. The magic bubbled. He closed his eyes, trying to gather some composure. But the magic wasn't in the mood to be contained. Harry fought against it.

Not more then a few feet away, Rupert Giles tensed as he heard a change occur in his nephew's breathing. The slow steady noise was becoming rapid, air moving in panicked gasps. He turned his head, wondering if the boy was having a nightmare. He was about stand up when he saw Harry jerk awake. The young wizard frantically tried to catch his breath.

"Are you alright?" Giles questioned. He watched Harry's back shake as he tried to get control.

"I'm fine," a cold voice hissed. The voice hadn't sounded anything like his nephew. It was higher pitched, and filled with hatred. Giles stood up shakily. He took a worried step toward the boy on his couch. He wished he could see Harry's face. He drew closer.

"Harry?" he questioned. He noticed that Harry's chest seemed to be calming. He moved to the other side of the couch. Now, he could see Harry, his face hidden by his hands. "Harry?" he asked again. Slowly the hands lowered.

"Sorry about that Uncle Rupert," replied an anxious looking Harry. Giles settled on the edge of the pullout bed, Harry's voice had returned to normal.

"Are you sure you are alright?" Giles questioned. Harry merely nodded. Giles examined the boy. He looked rather shaken. Giles sat still for a moment. Confused about how to act, Giles decided to downplay the situation, he didn't want to embarrass the boy. He stood up and began to walk back to the table.

"I'm sorry if I bothered you," added Harry. Giles paused again. There was something in Harry's tone that was troubling. He'd spent his last few years with mostly teenagers for company. There was a sadness in Harry's voice, such deep sadness. If anything, Giles had learned that most teenagers hid sadness like it was a sin.

"Harry it wasn't a bother, I was up anyway. Was it a nightmare?" questioned Giles. He noticed his nephew's head nodding in response. Yet, Harry seemed genuinely shaken by this dream. Nightmares weren't usually a problem for someone Harry's age. Giles reluctantly went back to his chair. He peered over at his nephew. Harry had settled back down but, it wasn't difficult to tell that he was still awake. Rupert turned back to his books. Should he say anything? What should his role be here? He felt like he should talk to the boy. But was it really his place? Still, as the minutes passed, and Harry showed no signs of drifting back to sleep, Giles felt he should do something. Rising again he crossed over and took a seat in a recliner that was facing Harry.

Harry was leaning back, but his knees were crossed. His breathing had settled. Yet, he doubted he'd be getting anymore sleep tonight. The images from his dream had been too gruesome. Even now, as he attempted to practice his Occlumency, the images kept appearing in his mind. And, there was no comfort in saying it was only a dream. Harry knew exactly what it was. But, the worst thing was, Harry not only saw everything through Voldemort's eyes, he could feel it all. He could feel the glee, the curiosity, he could feel his magic responding. Well, not his per say...not for the first time was Harry regretting the particular method he had used to defeat Voldemort. Harry tried not to think of that now. But, again the images came unbidden. He shuddered. No he definitely wouldn't be getting any sleep tonight.

"Harry..." a voice interrupted his thoughts. With a regretful roll of his head, Harry opened his eyes. His Uncle was seated in a chair across from him. The man seemed to be fumbling for his words. Great, Harry groaned in his mind, his uncle wanted to _talk. _Harry really wasn't feeling in the mood for a probing conversation right now. He stayed silent and waited for his uncle to make up his mind what to say. Rupert Giles rubbed his hands.

"Well, I those nightmares can't be fun," Giles said. As soon as the words left his mouth, Giles rolled his eyes. 'I'm terribly insightful' thought Giles to himself.

"No, not really."

"Do you have them often?" Giles asked curiously.

"Yes."

"Well, if you need any help..." Giles's voice trailed off.

" I assure you- eh- Uncle Rupert...I can handle them." Harry's voice was firm. Yet, Giles didn't feel he could let the matter rest. He removed his glasses and began to clean them with a handkerchief.

"Well, obviously you can't, if you keep having them" stated Giles. Harry paused for a minute. He could feel anger begin to course through his body. He wasn't usually this quick to anger, but his dream had left him a bad mood already. He clenched his fists under the blanket.

"What do you know what I can and can not handle," growled Harry. He really didn't mean to take his frustration out on Giles but the man was getting on his nerves. What right did a man he'd met only a few hours ago have to act like a parent?

"Um, Quite." Giles paused for a moment. "Still, It might help to talk about it," probed Giles. Harry's eyes flashed. What the Hell. He had better not be getting the 'It's Better To Talk About It' talk. He'd had enough of that one to last him a life time. He didn't need this. Stupid Muggle. What could he possibly know? Harry's head jerked up. Where had that thought come from? He'd never looked down on muggles before...okay so maybe he hated the Dursleys. But not because they were muggles. The magic was bubbling again.

"I have to go. A walk." His voice was filled with a sense of desperation. Harry jumped off the bed. Giles stood up a surprised look on his face.

"What...I?" Giles stood still for a minute. He was completely astounded by Harry's reaction. He took him a moment to notice that the boy was heading for the door. "No, Harry wait...You have to wait." Giles rushed to his nephew and placed a hand on his arm. With a pull Harry jerked away.

"Keep your hands off me," Harry growled. He fumbled with the door.

"Harry, Sunnydale isn't safe after dark!" Giles called.

"I can take care of myself." Harry's voice was firm and tinge of the coldness from earlier had seeped into his words. He ran outside into the street.

"No...Harry you don't understand." Giles rushed to his door. He looked out into the night. He was willing to drag the young man back in if necessary. Yet, when he reached the porch, Harry was nowhere to be found. Giles stepped onto the sidewalk and scanned the surrounding area, he saw no sign of where the boy had gone. 'He must have used some magic' Giles thought, his inner voice making some attempt at calm. Yet, his spirits dropped. He hadn't meant to drive the boy away. What if Harry had decided never to return.

"But...I didn't even do anything?" Giles said to no one. He was very confused. Even though he wanted to search for his nephew, Giles saw no other option than to go back inside. He doubted he'd find the boy if he didn't want to be found.

An invisible Harry was already around the block. He stormed down the streets, his magical energy sparking. It hadn't been this bad since right after he had defeated Voldemort. He sighed in relief when he spotted an empty playground. He dropped the invisibility spell, and settled himself on the merry-go-round. He needed quiet to get this under control. He folded his legs and took deep breathes. The annoying presence in the back of his mind growled at him, yet he still steadily pushed it back.

"What we got here?" a voice rang out through the air. Harry ignored it.

"What's he doing? It's not as much fun if they don't run." This was a woman's voice. Harry ignored her as well. He needed to focus if he was going to get this under control. He shut his senses down and tried to concentrate on his inner battle. Yet, the annoying voices didn't seem to take the hint.

"I don't know, I kinda like it when they're easy," a different voice grunted.

"You would, that's why you're so fat." a fourth voice chimed.

"Hey kid," the first voice was back. Out of nowhere, a strong hand grabbed his arm. It gave him a sharp tug, and Harry landed in a pile at the base of the merry-go-round.He stood up slowly. His eyes still closed for the moment. He heard the voices around him laugh. Harry opened his eyes.

"Vampires," he hissed quietly. And, indeed they were. Four vampires. Two skinny looking men, one woman with dark, red hair, and a man with a barrel-like chest. They circled him casually.

"He's hardly even a snack," argued one of the skinny vampires.

"I don't know, I kinda like him," said the female vampire. She fluttered her eyelashes at him flirtatiously.

"You like every kid with dark hair," their leader complained. "That's how we got stuck with him." The leader jerked a thumb at the other thin vampire behind him.

"Yeah, no more newbies," the barrel chested vampire grunted. The female rolled her eyes at the men present. Then she shrugged.

"Fine...but I'm hungry." Her face morphed into its demonic form. She jumped with superhuman speed toward the boy. She grabbed his neck with one hand, and his shoulder with the other. As she leaned in, she noticed that the boy had closed his eyes again. She didn't like that.

"Open your eyes," she commanded. With a flutter of lashes, his eyes opened.

"Are you sure you want me too," the boy's voice hissed. The female vampire backed away. His eyes. They glowed red. Inside her something trembled in fear. She backed into one of the other vampires.

"_Incendio_" the cold voice whispered. The word sent chills down all their spines. But, before they even had a chance to think about running, their skin burst into flame.They burned slowly. All four vampires shrieked as their skin cracked and burned. Soon their cries silenced, the flames flicked pleasantly for a moment before they burned out, leaving four piles of ash on the ground.

"NO!" a voice cried out into the silence. Harry's eyes ceased to glow and became their usual emerald green. He grabbed at his head. Cursing under his breathe, Harry ran from the playground, seeking to avoid the new fears that had been dumped on him.

-

-

Buffy Summers had been nearing the end of her patrol. It had been another tough night. She should probably patrol more, but she was dead tired. She'd battled another set of well trained demons, not to mention only getting a few hours of sleep in the early evening. She needed a rest. Still, It seemed like that was not to be. Just as she was nearing her street, she heard a group of voices. She could tell by their tone that the voices belonged to vampires, and they seemed to have discovered a new victim. She hurried to the left and gave a frustrated sigh. 'Didn't people know to stay inside after dark in Sunnydale,' Buffy thought. The voices sounded as if they were coming from the playground, she could cut through the trees and get there faster. Buffy hurried. Just as she was nearing, a symphony of cries met her ears. She blinked as she noticed the park light up, fire throwing shadows everywhere. She quickened her pace, now she was running.

Buffy paused when she reached the play equipment. She looked around. There was no one here. She scanned the area more throughly. Then she noticed it. Near the merry-go-round was four piles of ash. Someone had dusted four vamps? Who could do that, well besides her? She sighed. Another mystery. Well, it would have to wait until morning. She needed some sleep. She decided to tell Giles about it tomorrow

-

-

Giles had stayed up much of the night waiting for his nephew to return. But, he had finally fallen asleep around four in the morning. He would be awakened at nine in the morning by an irritated teenager.

-

-

Around five in the morning, a rather tired, but much more composed Harry returned to his uncle's house. He stood outside for a long while wondering what he should do. Should he knock? But what if his Uncle was asleep, he didn't want to wake him. Was he even welcome? Still, Uncle Rupert had seemed like a rather nice guy. Harry doubted the man would become too aggressive if he awoke to find Harry in his house. In the end, Harry decided that he needed a few more hours of sleep. Then, he'd find some way to apologize to his Uncle.

Harry managed to sleep for three more hours. He awoke to find the house still quiet. Remembering his promise to make things up to his uncle, Harry decided to make breakfast. Perhaps the man would be in a better mood if he had hot food before him. Harry was a good cook. Doing much of the cooking in the Dursley household since he was seven could do that. But, he really didn't mind cooking. Especially breakfast. It was a good meal. He was a tad disappointed in his Uncle's pantry though. Did the man only make toast? There were only two eggs, some frozen rashers of bacon.

"Luckily I'm a wizard," muttered Harry. Harry drew his wand and muttered a spell he had learned from Mrs. Weasley. She had taught it to him one summer. Harry had spent the usual half of the summer with his relatives, who had fed him little. Vernon had complained about the cost. Somehow that concern had leaked into Harry's mind. When he arrived at the Weasleys he hadn't eaten much either, knowing that they had their own financial difficulties. When Mrs. Weasley had finally called him on it, Harry had confided his reason. After much muttering about his terrible relatives, Molly had shown him a simple spell that kept the Weasley family so well fed. The spell managed to multiply food items. For instance, one egg could become two dozen. Harry smiled, a sad smile, as he remembered those meals at the Weasleys.

Harry busied himself away from memories. He scrambled the eggs, watching in a satisfied way as they crackled on the stove. He pushed them around with a spatula. A little salt, a little pepper. Perfection. Harry placed the eggs on a plate with a heating charm, ensuring that they would stay hot until his uncle awoke. He was plating up the bacon when he heard the door open, and a female voice called out,

"Giles!" The voice sounded slightly familiar, but Harry was avoiding hot grease at the moment so he didn't stop to question his recollection. He heard the footsteps cross the living room, and begin to climb up the stairs. Harry listened as a hand knocked on what he assumed was his Uncle's door.

"Geez Giles, way to care. You still asleep?" demanded an annoyed female voice. Harry set the dishes down and began to walk out of the kitchen, he paused at the door frame.

"I'm sorry Buffy, a late night. Is there a problem?"

"Not really, but there could have been, I could be broken and bleeding." Harry gazed from the kitchen doorway as Buffy and his uncle came down the stairs. His uncle was wearing the same clothes he had worn yesterday, although they were in a more rumpled state. Harry cringed as the guilt washed over him. It seemed his uncle _had_ been worried about him. Giles shook his head at the girl before him, but he had an amused smile on his lips.

"I do apologize Buffy, I..." Giles's voice broke off, he had caught a glimpse of black hair in his apartment. "Harry?"

"Eh...morning Uncle Rupert..." Harry grinned hesitantly.

"Harry?" Buffy had stopped dead as she stared at the boy in the kitchen. "Wait, did you say _Uncle Rupert_?" asked the blonde.

"Eh, how do you know each other?"

"Eh, how do you know each other?" Both Giles and Harry asked at the same time. Buffy snorted in laughter. The group stood in silence for a moment, the only noise being the occasional nervous giggle from Buffy.

"How about some breakfast?" asked Harry.

"Excellent, " declared Buffy.

"You cooked?" asked Giles. Harry nodded. The three headed into the kitchen and soon emerged with plates full of eggs, bacon, toast, and tea. Buffy was a little disappointed in the lack of coffee, and chose juice instead. The threesome settled around Gile's table, shifting the many books out of the way so that there was room for their plates. Soon the quiet was filled with sounds of people chewing. Giles coughed.

"So, how did you two meet?" questioned Giles.

"I met Harry yesterday morning, at the Expresso Pump," Buffy explained. Giles nodded. 'So they didn't really know each other' Giles thought. But, Buffy wasn't done speaking. "Then I ran into him when Willow and I went out to lunch, and he Oz, Willow, and I went to a movie last night."

"Well..." Giles's voice trailed off. It seemed his slayer knew Harry better than he himself did, he tried not to feel jealous.

"How do you know each other?" Harry asked. Harry eyed the pair questioningly. They looked like two peas...from two completely different pods, separated by a fence and a moat. That was no more obvious then this morning. Buffy was wearing a bright flower-patterned halter top and white shorts. Giles's was dressed in slacks and a frumpy sweater. They didn't seem like the kind of people to be friends, but Harry could tell from their earlier camaraderie that they got along very well.

"Giles is kinda like my mentor," Buffy explained. Harry raised his eyebrows at his uncle. Giles removed his glasses and began cleaning them.

"I was...I was the librarian at her school," added Giles. Harry nodded. He could tell they were lying. Or, perhaps not lying, just not mentioning something. Still, he was used to that and didn't let it trouble him. People had been lying to him his whole life. If they wanted their secrets, they could have them.

"Gosh! I can't believe I forgot!" Buffy said, she slapped her head. "Your name is Rupert!" Buffy exclaimed.

"Yes it is," stated Giles. He eyed Buffy curiously, as if she might have lost her mind.

"Harry was looking for his uncle Rupert all day yesterday, Willow and I even tried to help. There couldn't be two English people named Rupert in Sunnydale. Oops sorry Harry. I always call him Giles," explained Buffy. The blonde turned and glared at Giles. "God, Giles vague much, you didn't even write Harry your address."

"Yes, well amusing as this visit might be, did you have a reason for pounding on my door this morning?" questioned Giles. He took a bite of his eggs.

"Oh yeah, last night on pat– I mean when I was taking a walk last night, I eh– saw something you might be interested in."

"Like what?" Harry asked a little curious about what might draw his uncle's attention.

"Um–a bird. Giles loves birds, you know he keeps all those books on birds, and he has binoculars and everything." Buffy blabbered on. She was lying again. Harry merely nodded.

"Yes, I'm quite a rabid bird watcher," Giles added somewhat reluctantly. Bird watching? Honestly. He had much more pressing matters to attend to. Really, he'd prefer to just be honest with Harry. Wizards knew about the existence of vampires and such, he could no doubt handle the news of the Slayer. Still, it was really Buffy's information to give. If she wanted to wait, than that was her business.

"Actually Giles, if you want to come with me now I can show you...eh- where I saw the bird. It was interesting."

"Can it wait until after breakfast?" Giles inquired. Buffy shrugged her shoulders and took another bite of the eggs.

"This is really good Harry," Buffy said as she chewed. "I never would have pegged you for the domestic type." Harry grinned at her, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.

"I've had a lot of practice," responded Harry. He frowned down at his plate. Giles shot another look at his nephew. The boy was an odd mixture. Last night he had been so distant, and now in the morning he seemed to be a personable young man, if not a little shy. He wanted to discuss what had occurred at night with his nephew. But, the lad seemed to get very distressed by even the suggestion of a discussion. Giles was really at a loss. The boy before him was very different from the other teenagers he knew.

After everyone was finished eating breakfast, Giles and Buffy went out for their _walk_. Harry knew that they really just wanted to go away to talk about something, but he let them think he was fooled by their charade. Still, Harry didn't get into as much trouble as he did by waiting behind. As soon as the pair left, Harry turned himself invisible and followed them out. He stayed a good bit behind them, but they didn't seem to notice. The pair seemed involved in a conversation, as Buffy guided Giles to their destination.

Harry was a little surprised when they stopped at the park he had been to last night. He eyed the location. There didn't seem to be anything unusual about it. The piles of ash from last night had mostly drifted away. Only a few small circles of charred grass remained from where the vampires had been. Harry closed his eyes, trying to forget what he had done. They were vampires. Blood-sucking fiends. Who knows how many they had killed. He'd been correct in killing them, right? Still, what worried him more had been how he had killed them.

"When I arrived they were already toast, Giles." Harry overheard as he neared his Uncle and Buffy. Giles kneeled down and examined the ground. Indeed, he was examining the charred marks.

"Well, they were obviously burnt, although I'm not sure what might have done it. I'd hazard to guess it was a demon. There are few species that are known to have fire capabilities...But, that doesn't really make sense. Vampires wisely tend to avoid these particular demons. They would certainly not surround one, and as you say...make with the puns..." Harry hadn't been able to stop himself from gasping when his Uncle had mentioned demons. Demons? Why was his Uncle familiar with demons? Demonology really wasn't a popular branch of magical learning. Harry himself only knew about it because of Voldemort's interest in summoning them. Thankfully the madman had chosen another path of destruction, but Harry could still remember the tense few weeks when Snape had mentioned the possibility of demon rising.

While Harry had been lost in memories, Buffy had been straining her senses. She could have sworn she had heard a noise behind her. Almost like someone had gasped. Now that she concentrated, she could hear the subtle sound of breathing and the soft crackle of dry grass being stepped on. She glanced casually at the ground to the left of her. There! The dirt had moved slightly. Buffy clenched her hand into a fist and swung with all her might.

-

SMACK

-

Buffy felt her hand ram into something. That something however was not the resilient slam of demon hide, nor the sturdiness of vampire flesh...in fact it felt warm and squishy and very human.

"Bloody Hell!" A voice croaked from the ground. Buffy's eyes widened. She moved toward where the person had fallen, and blinked in surprise when a body materialized.

"Harry?" Buffy questioned. Giles turned, and leapt to his feet when he spotted his nephew on the ground, clutching his chest in obvious pain.

"You sure can pack a punch," Harry wheezed. He clutched his chest gingerly.

"Buffy!" Giles's eyes flashed angrily at her. "What were you thinking," he fumed. Buffy's face began to go red. She jumped up ready to yell right back, when a softer voice beat her to it.

"It's not her fault Uncle Rupert," Harry said as he winced. He coughed into his hand. His chest was really starting to burn. "I was kinda invisible." Harry explained.

"What-oh..." Giles rubbed his forehead.

"Yeah Giles, geeez." Buffy shot him an angry look.

"Well I'm sorry Buffy...I should have known you wouldn't..." Giles fumbled with his words while Buffy relaxed. Harry coughed into his hand again. He pulled his palm away and was unhappy to note the blood that had come from his hacking coughs. Giles spotted the red at the same time Harry did.

"Good Lord, I think you may have broken a rib, punctured your lung..." Giles reached a steadying hand behind Harry.

"What..." Buffy's face turned ashen. 'Could that kill somebody?' Buffy wondered. "I'm so sorry, I didn't..."

"We'll have to get you to a hospital," said Giles firmly.

"No, I'm fine." Harry attempted to sit up. He hissed in pain as he put pressure on his chest. "It didn't puncture, I can tell. Probably just jabbed the lung a bit." Buffy's eyes widened. What was this kid playing at?

"Uh uh," Buffy shook her head. "You're going to the hospital if I have to drag you there myself." She growled at the young man. He didn't have time for this macho guy crap. She didn't want his death on her conscious. She shot a look at Giles. His face was just as scared as she was. He couldn't take losing this kid.

"No really, if you can just prop me up. It's a bit easier if I'm not on my back." Buffy shot Harry a quizzical look. Giles leaned in and helped the boy rise. Harry didn't make any noise of pain this time, you had to look in his eyes to know that he wasn't fine. Buffy watched as the boy flicked his wrist. Out of nowhere, a stick shot into his hand. Buffy stared. 'What was he going to do with that?' she wondered.

"_Costa Sarcire_" muttered Harry. Buffy watched in surprise as a blue light drifted from his wand, and seemed to soak into his skin. In a moment Harry sighed in relief. He than stood up without any pain. Giles remained kneeled on the ground. Staring up at Harry with a slight look of disbelief on his face, then he seemed to relax.

"Healing charm?" Giles asked.

"Yeah, particularly for broken ribs. I tend to need that one a lot." Harry grinned at the pair of them. Giles stood stiffly. Buffy bit her lip. Harry's face quirked into a smile, he shot Buffy and Giles an amused look.

"So, _bird watching_ huh?"

-

-

-

A/N: Hope you enjoyed that chapter. As ever, the more people who review, the sooner I update. I truly meant to update yesterday, but there seemed to be some gliches uploading documents.I must say, I've truly appreciated all who have reviewed. I'm glad people are enjoying it. Chapter five is almost complete. Expect to see it soon and expect some long awaited action. Finally, a fight scene!


	5. The Fight and the Man in Shadow

Chapter Five: The Fight and the Man in Shadow

-

-

Harry smiled slightly as they walked back. He was the only one. Both Buffy and Giles seemed lost in thought. Whether they were intrigued by his magic, or concerned about the loss of their secret, Harry didn't know. He supposed that he should be worried about the exposure of magic to a muggle, but if Buffy was dealing with vampires and demons, he didn't suppose she was much of a muggle after all. Truthfully, Harry found the whole situation funny. But, by the silent nervous looks Buffy shot Giles, Harry assumed that something was troubling her.

When the trio arrived back at Giles's apartment. They entered as quietly as the walk had been. Harry stood curiously in the hallway as both Buffy and Giles seemed to settle themselves. Buffy flopped onto the couch, Giles stood behind the couch, staring blankly at the room around him.

"Magic?" Buffy asked from her reclined position. Her voice contained no surprise, just an interest.

"Yeah," responded Harry. He entered the apartment, his eyes focused on his Uncle. The man hadn't moved.

"That didn't look like any magic I've seen," said Buffy. Harry shrugged.

"I'm a wizard, our magic is different from Uncle Rupert's,"

"A wizard, guess I should have guessed. You being Giles's nephew and all." The pair lapsed into silence, Giles still hadn't joined the conversation.

"So, you a female bodybuilder, that was quite a punch," commented Harry. Buffy colored slightly.

"Um...well I'm kinda the Slayer."

"_The_ Vampire Slayer, interesting." Harry leaned back impressed. Still he didn't want to be too in awe over Buffy. He'd dealt with that ever since entering the wizarding world, so he merely nodded his head.

"You know what a slayer is?" asked Buffy, rather amazed.

"One of my classes at school mentioned the Slayer," explained Harry.

"Okay...I'm guessing that this isn't your average school." Buffy turned to Giles and shot him a puzzled look. But, Giles hadn't responded. He had remained stationary, his eyes still staring into the floor.

"Giles are you okay?" Buffy rose from the sofa and approached her watcher.

Rupert Giles was not okay. He had walked back home, his eyes flickering to the young man beside him. Harry was fine. Harry, even seemed to be on the verge of laughter. But, Giles couldn't get the image of a crumpled and bloody Harry out of his mind. The moment he had seen Harry in pain...he didn't know what he'd thought. But, it was a frightening thought. Giles had spent much of his life alone, caring for no one and no one caring for him. It was an easy way to live your life. He had begun to open up around Buffy and her friends. Indeed Buffy meant a lot to him. Quentin had called it a father's love. But Buffy was different. She was a warrior, a hero. And, even if he hated her being in danger, it was her destiny. She didn't have a choice in the matter. Harry was still a boy. Granted, he was a boy with magical abilities but even magic could only go so far. He'd been hurt so badly, and by _Buffy_. What might happen when he came face to face with a real fight? He'd remained deep in thought during Harry and Buffy's conversation, but Buffy drew his attention.

"I'm fine Buffy, just thinking."

"Well okay thinking guy, I'm guessing you knew Harry was a wizard," commented Buffy. She pulled at a strand of her hair as she let her eyes rest on her watcher.

"Yes, his mother was magical as well." Giles finally moved, he stepped over to the table and took a seat in a chair. He let his attention drift back to the books in front of him.

"It's so weird to think of you having a sister. Why didn't you ever mention her? I always pegged you for the only child role."

"I had a sister, she died. And there were three of us. I was the oldest. Petunia, my step-sister was four years younger than I, and Lily was the baby. I was ten when she was born." Buffy shook her head. Two sisters. She'd never imagined Giles having two sisters. Although, it did explain that protective streak he had.

"Your mom is Petunia? Funny name," Buffy leaned back. Who would name a child that...still she couldn't really point fingers in the whole name thing. Harry coughed,

"No. Petunia is my aunt. Lily was my mother."

"So...your mom is...dead?" Buffy looked at Harry, a mixture of sadness and embarrassment on her face.

"It's okay, she died when I was a baby." Harry shrugged his shoulder and tried to play the situation off as nothing. Buffy gave a nervous smile.

"So you didn't even know about Harry, huh Giles."

"No. I didn't." Giles remained quiet. He opened one of his texts, and began looking through the pages.

"So...eh--" Buffy tapped her fingers on the sofa. A silent tension seemed to have leaked into the room. Harry hadn't sat down yet, remaining perched by the chair. Giles had turned his back on the pair of them and was looking through his books. Buffy wasn't certain what else to talk about. They quickly covered the magic and slayer business. Harry had taken the slayer info better than anyone, Buffy thought. She'd found out there was a different kind of magic, which was educational...sure. Then, She'd royally stuck her foot in her mouth by bringing up the sensitive subject of Lily's death. Giles didn't seem to want to talk about his family.

"Eh– I think I'll go now, you know stuff to do and what not..." Buffy rose to her feet. Giles probably needed some Uncle /Nephew bonding time.

"Bye Buffy," said Harry. He looked a little nervous about being left alone with Giles. Still, the kid wasn't running for the hills, so they'd probably get along okay, Buffy thought.

"I'll swing back around before patrol tonight. If you want you can join, Willow's coming, once she finds out you are magical she'll want to play 20 questions."

"Twenty questions, the kid's game?" Harry ruffled his hair confusedly.

"I mean she'll be curious. She gave up going to Harvard so that she could become a wicca here, she'll want to know all about your magic," explained Buffy.

"Oh, alright, I'll see you later tonight."

"Buffy..." started Giles, his tone serious, as if he were preparing for a long speech.

"Got to run Giles, see you later," said Buffy, her words cutting him off. In a second she was out the door. Giles sighed and turned back to his books. Harry remained standing in the room. It felt much more quiet now that Buffy was gone. As Harry glanced at his book entombed Uncle, he wasn't certain that silence was a good thing. Harry sighed.

-

-

-

Harry had cleaned the dishes. Harry had closed up the couch bed and tided the living room. Harry had taken a jog. Harry had taken an excessively long shower. Harry had tried to watch TV, but discovered the horror of daytime programming. Harry had removed his shrunken trunk from his pocket, enlarged it, re-organized it, and shrunk it again. And, while Harry had done this, his Uncle hadn't said a word. Rupert Giles had remained at his table, his only motion being the occasional flip of a page. Uncle Rupert seemed to be trying to pretend that Harry didn't exist. Things were starting to feel far too much like home. That is, if Harry considered the Dursley's house his home.

Harry was currently sitting on the couch, watching his Uncle. His new clothes from yesterday had been put into his trunk, he had dressed himself in another pair of Dudley castoffs. If his Uncle found the change is attire interesting, he didn't mention it. Harry watched as the man looked through his books. Perhaps out of boredom, or merely out of a desperation to hear another voice, Harry approached his Uncle.

"What are you working on?" he asked.

"Um– some research for Buffy. There has been some unusual activity." Giles's words were distracted and clipped. Harry nodded. He glared down at the books.

"Do you need any help?" asked Harry. He groaned internally. He didn't want to read through moldy old books on his holiday. Still, he had come here to meet Giles. He'd never have a clear conscious if he didn't at least try to connect with his family.

"Um–alright. Can't imagine these types of books would be new to you." Giles handed Harry a large volume.

"No." Harry took a seat at the table. "What sort of information are you looking for?"

"Right now I'm casting a wide net, anything that might be scheduled to happen soon. Rituals, prophecies, anything that might draw a powerful vampire to the area." Giles peered over at the young man. Harry nodded glumly and began to flip through the book. The writing was tiny.

"So you're a Watcher right?" questioned Harry.

"I–well I was...I was fired." Giles rubbed the back of his neck.

"I thought Watchers were destined to be Watchers, how can you be fired." Harry flipped a page as he examined his Uncle.

"I'm not entirely certain myself." The pair sat in silence for a bit, the only noise the flipping of the pages. After a few moments had passed, Harry lifted his head from the book.

"Did you want to be a Watcher, or was it something you got stuck with? Like a prophecy or something?" Giles paused pensively for a moment. That was an interesting way to phrase the question. Actually no one had really asked him that question before, except for Buffy. It had always been expected.

"Well, I didn't want it when I was younger, but I guess I got used to the idea. You can't really escape destiny." Giles nodded his head as he spoke. He supposed that destiny was one of the reasons he was still in Sunnydale. Some pompous old man could say he was fired, but he had been given a destiny.

"Yeah, I know." Harry said quietly.

Harry and Giles spent the next few hours looking through the books. Or rather Giles studiously looked through the books, and Harry used magic to absorb the information. It was a tricky charm that Hermione had found, very difficult and it required a lot of power. Most wizards didn't bother with it. But, Harry was too bored by the material to do it the old-fashioned way. Still, even though his knowledge absorption spell had shown that his current book was pointless, Harry continued to leaf through it, occasionally dozing. He didn't want his Uncle to assign another book. Giles didn't seem to mind Harry's disinterest, and continued reading the text, even as Harry's head rested in his hands. All pretense of reading cast aside.

That was how Buffy found them when she went to Giles's home that evening. Giles was perched behind another text, Harry asleep, his head on the table. She had entered without knocking, as usual, and paused for a moment as she examined them. Giles looked bored and tired, he seemed strained. Harry was dressed back in a grungy outfit like the one she had seen the other day. She rolled her eyes as she took in the table covered in books. 'Geez Giles' Buffy thought to herself, 'You get a chance to know the kid and you have him do research? You're totally not the fun Uncle.'

"I see you're having fun," teased Buffy.

"Yes, indeed." Giles looked up from his book when he noticed his Slayer enter the room. Harry's head leapt up from the table, a smile plastered on his face.

"Buffy, you're back!" Harry cringed as he heard his voice speak. Why had that come out so pathetic? Hell, he didn't care. He was bored out of his mind. He'd have been glad to see Voldemort at that moment. Buffy smiled at the warm welcome, from one of the men anyway.

"Any luck?" Buffy inquired. She pulled out a chair and sat down.

"Perhaps," Giles said. He opened one of his books. "This text prophesies that the mouth of hell will be opened by a being of the forgotten, in a time of treacherous moon. I'll need to see if I can find a book that relates to this time more closely, but the basics of the era sound about right."

"Oh I read about that," Harry interrupted. "The being forgotten, from a time long past...blah, blah blah. But the setting is wrong. _The treacherous moon shall lay waste to the jungle leaving all things bare, and the lion and the leopard shall flee from it, silence shall rain from the bright darkness._ Also the treacherous moon is a red moon, which according to the mystic cycle isn't scheduled to appear for another decade." Harry finished and looked up at the others. Both Buffy and Giles stared at him open-mouthed.

"W-what?" Giles stuttered.

"It-it was in my book, the prophecy of the forgotten one. But, I don't think it applies." Harry shrugged as he spoke. Buffy's eyes widened at Harry's cluelessness.

"You memorized it?" Buffy asked. "You really are a Giles."

'No...I just remember stuff really well." Harry blushed as he spoke.

"I didn't even think you were paying attention," said Giles. His voice was soft, as if he were speaking mostly to himself. "I suppose we are back to square one," announced Giles. Harry glared back at the books. Bloody Books!

The door opened and shut, Willow bounced into the room.

"Howdy folks," she greeted cheerfully. A little too cheerful Harry thought. Willow's eyes lit up as she spotted Harry. "You're a Wizard!" She practically shouted, her voice loud enough to carry throughout the apartment.

"Eh–I know?" said Harry.

"Why didn't you say anything?" questioned Willow. She placed her hands on her hips and sent him a demanding glare. Harry winced. The friendly red head seemed to be channeling Mrs. Weasley. Thinking of the Wesleys erased all of Harry's amusement. Instead of teasing her, he answered in a straightforward tone.

"There is a code of secrecy, which forbids telling muggles about the magical world."

"Mugga-what?" asked Buffy.

"Non-magical people," explained Harry.

"Magical world?" Willow's glare vanished, replaced by a look of curiosity that would have done Hermione proud. It was odd seeing his best friends combined in this one girl. Harry's expression became more somber as he faced the young woman.

"Believe it our not, there is a whole world of people who use magic everyday, most don't even know about muggle technology. They have hidden communities, schools, everything really... it's kinda hard to explain."

"But...how can they use magic all the time? Giles I thought you said too much magic, or too powerful could be dangerous. You know lead to being big bad and all that?" Willow turned to look at Giles. The older man had leaned back, he took out his glasses and cleaned them as he explained.

"Harry's magic is very different from ours, Willow. We have to take raw magic and channel it through our bodies, this can be very altering to the body. Too much can lead to problems. Harry's magic comes from inside him, a magical core if you will. Thus the magic he wields does not have any damaging effects on his body." Willow nodded in understanding, while Buffy seemed to tune out much of the technical conversation.

"Well, this has been fascinating, but its time for patrol." Buffy rose to her feet and Harry followed suit. Willow looked reluctant as she got to her feet. Harry was excited. He'd fought vampires before, but he'd never gone out searching for them. It would be interesting, especially as he would be with the Vampire Slayer. Really, he was just glad to get out of this house. He needed to do something, anything.

"Buffy, I don't know if it is a good idea for Harry to go along. He's obviously much more suited to research, his memory skills and such. I think it would be better if he stayed here and tried to determine what might be coming." Giles's voice carried over them all. Buffy turned and sent a questioning look at Giles. Willow also tilted her head in curiosity.

Harry stood not more that two feet away from his Uncle, yet he wondered if he'd ever felt further away from the man. Him, suited for research? He'd never been good at research. He had always been the run-head-long-into-action guy. Couldn't his uncle see he didn't enjoy all this book reading? Did he really think him incompetent? The anger was rising up his throat. Harry couldn't afford to get angry. He took a deep breath and remained calm.

"I'm going to go out with Buffy and patrol Giles. I'll be back later." With that, Harry headed toward the door.

"Harry wait," Giles called after the young man. But Harry didn't bother turning. He exited the house. Giles sat back down in his chair and didn't say anything. Buffy and Willow sent nervous looks at each other. The tension was thick in the air.

"Um– bye Giles," Buffy managed to say. She gave Willow a quick nod to and the two girls left as well. Buffy worried that she would have to track down an irate Harry, but she quickly spotted the boy. He was leaning against a tree, his eyes closed. His chest moved in and out, as if he were taking deep breaths.

"You okay?" asked Buffy. Being friends with Xander had taught her a little something about how teenage boys thought. She could tell that Giles's words had cut at Harry's 'manliness' or machismo, whatever you called it. Still, she couldn't really blame guys, she'd be upset if someone assumed that her being the slayer meant she wasn't a girl. Just because she decapitated demons, didn't mean she didn't like pink nail polish.

However, when Harry turned to her, his face was perfectly calm. He smiled at her slightly.

"I'm fine, ready to kick some vampire ass." His previously friendly smile seemed to possess a feral intensity. Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Come on than killer." Buffy grabbed his arm and pulled him away. Facing forward, she didn't notice the way Harry's face paled when she'd called him 'killer'.

-

After the trio had distanced themselves far enough from Giles's home, Willow seemed to think she was allowed to begin the barrage of questions.

"So Harry, is your boarding school a magical boarding school?" Willow stood on his other side looking curiously at the dark haired boy.

"Eh- yea. Hogwart's school of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"Hogwarts? Blek! Who came up with that name? Sounds life some sort of skin disease," commented Buffy. Harry couldn't help but smile, even if she was mocking his previous 'home'.

"A school that teaches magic, Buffy that is cool. I wish I could have gone there...but I guess I got the wrong type of magic."

"You practice the same type of earth magic as my Un– as Giles does, is that right?" asked Harry.

"Yep, I'm a wicca." Willow seemed to skip through the night air. Harry found himself intrigued by the company Buffy chose to take with her on her patrolling. Willow seemed very smart, but she had an infectious enthusiasm and cheerfulness that seemed out of place on a life-or-death mission. Harry smiled slightly, he agreed with Buffy's choice entirely.

"So how long have you been slaying?" Harry asked.

"I was called to be a slayer when I was fourteen, and Willow and Xander have been helping me ever since I moved to Sunnydale," replied Buffy. She strolled leisurely as she spoke, yet Harry could tell she was poised for action.

"Xander?"

"Xander, oh you haven't me him. He's on some sort of post-graduation see the country road trip-thingy." Willow answered. "He and I have been friends since we were kids. After we were all nearly killed by vampires we decided to help Buffy." Harry quirked an eyebrow at her blase approach to nearly being killed. He supposed one grew used to it, if your best friend was a Vampire Slayer.

"What did you mean earlier about the whole hidden world thing?" Willow asked.

"Well, wizards have hidden themselves for centuries."

"Why?" a curious Buffy asked.

"I asked the same thing. The answer I got was that wizards would be bothered too much, people would want magical cures to all their problems. But, if you ask me, it goes deeper than that. Firstly, some wizards don't like muggles. We even fought a war over it. Thankfully, the good side won. Another reason is that I suppose wizards are a little afraid of muggles."

"Afraid? Why would they be afraid, you got all the mojo?"

"The magical community is a very small population. If the muggles really wanted to, I'm sure that they could destroy us. Wizards still passionately talk about the witch hunts from the Middle Ages, if that tells you how concerned they are over anti-magical action. Also, magic is well and good, but guns can be quicker. And, humanity has never been very accepting of things that they don't understand." Harry shrugged his shoulders. Hiding had become second nature. He didn't question it now. Harry always hid. Everything.

The two girls walked in silence, thinking about what they had heard.

"It's not really that surprising... really," Buffy said. She turned to Willow. "I mean, think about what we do. It's kinda a hidden world. I mean we don't got hidden schools and stuff, but most people would think we were nuts if we started talking about vampires and demons."

"Yeah, I guess."

The group had gotten away from the small neighborhoods, and was walking into a graveyard. Harry paused for a moment and examined his surroundings. He knew a lot of people found graveyards peaceful. Well obviously those people hade never fought for their lives in one. Harry didn't really like graveyards. He wasn't afraid of death, just nothing good had ever happened in a graveyard. They say when you go to funerals you find a sense of closure. Harry had never gotten that. So he paused slightly as they entered the hallowed ground. He took a breath and followed Buffy and Willow. He walked fast to catch up, he was almost next to Buffy, when he jumped back as if he had been burned.

"You okay?" Buffy asked. After Harry had jumped away, He had stood stiffly still, his eyes glazing over.

"I'm fine, just forgot for a moment."

"Forgot what?" Buffy asked.

"The energy, this town has weird energy flows. Old dark magic." Harry explained.

"You can feel it?" Willow inquired

"Can't you?" Harry asked in amazement. "Come here," Harry took Willow's hand and guided her forward and to the left. Harry waited patiently. Willow looked around with her eyes.

"I don't feel anything." Willow finally said. She shrugged her shoulders and sent Buffy a questioning glance.

"Here, try this. Close your eyes. Try to reach out with your senses. Giles said you draw from surrounding magic, so I guess think about what you do when you do magic." Harry stuttered through his explanation, not certain how to teach this. His magical ability was very different from Willow's. Yet, Willow did as he asked.

"I think I feel it," said Willow, her voice soft. Her hand reached out and Harry noticed that she brushed against one of the stronger currents.

"Yep, you got it." Harry nodded. Willow opened her eyes, she waved her hand as a frown crossed her face.

"Its gone now, I can't feel if I'm not concentrating" she sighed in disappointment.

"Just as well," comforted Harry, "If you could you'd have to be careful wherever you walk." Willow shrugged her shoulders.

"ON YOUR RIGHT!" Buffy yelled out. Harry spun around and spotted a pair of vampires emerge from behind a crypt. Buffy ran forward and Willow grabbed his arm pulling him away. Harry turned to look questioningly at her. The redhead had pulled out a cross, and continued to back away taking Harry with her.

"Best to let Buffy handle it on her own, she's the expert at this stuff," explained Willow. Harry figured he could help, but decided that if Buffy didn't have any problems he'd best not bother. He stood beside Willow as they watched the dark creatures surround Buffy.

"Hey guys, nice night," Buffy quipped. Harry couldn't avoid a smirk as he watched her deceptive smile.

"You're going down Slayer, we're getting rid of the Light people in this town," snarled the taller of the vampires.

"Light?" Buffy tilted her head at the unfamiliar phrasing, "I'll have you know I have a great tan, not like you can talk." Buffy sneered at the pale creatures. "But enough with the chit chat," Buffy lunged forward, leaping into the air and sending a firm kick into the vampire's rib cage.

"Omf--" the vampire shuffled back while the other moved in. This vampire was shorter and stockier. His face still hadn't reverted to its demon form, but his sneer was almost as cruel.

"Double the pleasure, double the fun," said a smirking Buffy. She raised a stake and moved toward the shorter vampires. With a quick motion she stabbed toward his heart, the vampire slid out of the way. 'Quick one' Buffy thought to herself. She raised a leg and managed to kick him in the shin. The other vampire had recovered and made a sudden move to grab her. Buffy knocked him back to the ground, this time with a solid punch.

As Buffy was fighting, Harry perched himself on a headstone to enjoy the show. His wand still in its holster. It was very relaxing watching Buffy fight. She had a natural talent of it. Harry had learned some hand-to-hand fighting techniques himself, but he could never imitate the gracefulness Buffy possessed. His movements always seemed jerky. Buffy flowed, each of her motions perfectly matching her opponents. Willow eyed Harry incredulously. He seemed to be rather relaxed. Her thoughts grew a little worried, did he know how dangerous vampires could be? She'd been helping Buffy for years and the one thing she knew was to always be on your feet, ready for anything. Hence her current 'poised for flight' posture. She shook her head.

The fight was becoming more intense. Buffy ducked away from a strong punch aimed at her head. The taller vampire was not skilled, on his own he'd have been easy. Unfortunately, for Buffy, he seemed to have paired himself with a much more experienced fighter. The shorter vampire still hadn't spoken a word, his motions had been precise and fast. And, even if the other vampire wasn't a talented fighter, he was proving to be damned annoying. Speaking of annoying, the taller vampire was lunging again. Buffy had managed to knock the other out of the way, and with a strong arm stabbed the vampire in the chest. His body crumbled into dust. 'Finally' she thought. Buffy rolled her shoulders as she faced off against the remaining vampire.

"And then there was one," Buffy joked. She raised her eyebrows at her opponent.

"He vas young and foolish, jung dummkopf " commented the vampire. Buffy noticed he spoke with an accent she couldn't identify and his final words left her stumped. Yet, one thing was clear he was undisturbed by his partner's demise. The two began to circle each other, each gauging their opponent. Buffy let her eyes examine him. He had shoulder length ash blonde hair, tied back. A sloping forehead, and cold gray-blue eyes. He had a confidant style, and perfected footing. He had obviously been trained to fight. Most vampires relied on their strength, and supernatural speed to win a fight. Few actively honed their abilities. But this one, he was different.

When the attack came, Buffy wasn't expecting it. She still managed to counter accordingly, but she felt a bit rattled at how close it had been. Striking back, she pushed him away with a firm kick to the chest. He stumbled slightly, but lowered his center of gravity and sung his leg. Buffy jumped to avoid having her feet knocked out from under her. The vampire raised his arms in a martial arts stance and swiped at Buffy. His arm struck her shoulder, but she rolled back and managed to stay on her feet. Buffy raised her leg and kicked him in the stomach, but as her foot left its target, the vampire grabbed her calf muscle. He twisted her leg, causing her to tumble to the ground.

Buffy found herself on the ground, her eyes narrowed, ready for a fight. With a gymnastic twist, Buffy sprang back to her feet. In the same motion she struck a horrendous blow to the vampire's skull. The force sent his body swinging. The vampire stumbled to his feet, he cupped his jaw and cringed. Buffy had broken his jaw. She grinned impishly. Behind her she heard the sound of some quiet chuckling. She turned slightly, still keeping one eye on the vampire. The other spotted a smiling Harry.

"Smashing blow," congratulated Harry. Suddenly, the smile dropped from Harry's face. Buffy's eyes widened as well.

"Your Left!" she cried. Harry flicked his wrist, arming himself in an instant. Buffy abandoned the now injured vampire, running full out to reach Harry and Willow. Four vampires had emerged from the trees, they were closer to Willow than Harry. Buffy put on another burst of speed. She hadn't noticed how much space her fight had put between her and the others.

Willow raised the cross when she spotted the approaching vampires.

"Willow,"Harry called. He had leapt off the headstone and pulled on her shoulder. With a quick movement that surprised the young wicca, Harry had positioned himself between her and the vampires.

"Brave one eh," a brunette vampire sneered, he was obviously the leader of these rif-rafs.

"That's what I've been told," commented Harry. He smiled pleasantly at the group. The lead vampire and the one next to him growled. With quick movements the leader lunged at Harry. With a grim expression, Harry brought his wand down in a long slashing motion. A long stream of fire poured from Harry's wand, the flames engulfing the stunned vampire before he had a chance to change direction.

"Diffindo." Harry cast at another who was approaching, a vicious look etched in his eyes. The vampire's eyes widened momentarily, then his head slipped of his shoulder and his body turned to dust.

The other Vampires, suddenly finding themselves down by two, eyed the boy warily. Harry raised his wand...and the two remainders bolted. Unfortunately, for them, Buffy had arrived. Their retreat meant running right into her. Without hesitation she staked the fleeing vampires.

"You guys okay?" asked Buffy. She approached them, her eyes scanning for any injuries.

"We're fine." Willow's voice was breathy, she gazed at Harry in surprise.

"That's how your magic works?" she asked. Willow turned and shot Buffy an amazed look. Buffy grinned as well.

"Was that you with the fire?" questioned Buffy.

"Eg– yeah, are you alright?" Harry asked Buffy.

"Terrible," moaned Buffy.

"What's the matter," Willow asked, concern filling her words.

"I broke a nail fighting that vamp. Ouch, and I just had them painted." Willow rolled her eyes at the blonde. Harry broke out laughing.

"Hey! Not funny." Yet, Buffy couldn't hide a smile either. Her eyes lit up when she spotted Harry's wand in his hand. "Hey maybe you can wave that thing and fix it huh?" Harry eyed his short nails regretfully.

"You know what," he said, "if there is a charm for that, I'm afraid I didn't learn it." Buffy pouted.

"Geez Harry what's the point of going to a magic school, if they don't teach you the basics?" Both Harry and Willow laughed, although neither were sure if Buffy was serious or not.

"Where'd that other bugger get to?" Harry questioned when the laughs had subsided. Buffy turned back and sighed.

"He must have run off. Drat, I was really looking forward to dusting him."

"Well, I don't think he'll be biting anyone too soon. That kick really knocked him. I think you busted his jaw," said Harry. Buffy nodded. She smiled a bit a she remembered the satisfying pop of his jaw snapping. Yep, he wouldn't be trouble anytime soon.

Or so she thought.

-

-

In the far end of the same cemetery, a large crypt loomed over the smaller headstones. Its ironwork door had rusted shut, but that hardly mattered. There were other way's of entering if you really wanted to. It was a large crypt, so old that it's name had been worn away. The bones inside had been worn away as well. Time did that to all things. Yet, amidst all this decay, a light flickered. A candle was lit in the cellar of this crypt. In the dim light, a short blonde vampire was rubbing his newly healed jaw.

"Thank you master," intoned the vampire. He bowed lowly to a figure hidden in shadow.

"Think nothing of it Carsten. I do enjoy your work, it would be a shame to have it suspended. Who was responsible?" a cold voice asked.

"The slayer, mein Herr."

"Ah yes, the Slayer. I've heard much of her. A disgusting muggle with the gift of strength, and a woman too." At these words the man emerged from the shadows. He moved his hand to his lips pensively. He ran his finger against the newly shaved skin. It felt almost indecent to not have hair on his lip. But his mustache had gone away, like many things.

"You couldn't handle her Carsten?" the man asked.

"She is very strong, mien Herr."

"Oh I have no doubt this bastion of Light is strong. She'd have to be to best you. But this town will be mine. I refuse to allow a citadel of darkness to be overrun with the forces of Light. It is simply unacceptable."

"I have no doubt you could destroy her mein Herr, but she is not alone. I saw her tonight. She had a fruend, a zauberer with her."

"A zauberer... a wizard. So the slayer keeps a pet wizard. Some dirty mudblood, no doubt. Find out what you can of him Carsten."

"Yes Master." The vampire bowed before the dark-haired man. As the vampire left, his master sneered after him. It was a sad day when a wizard had to align himself with vampires and demons. Yet, it couldn't be helped. The wizarding world was dead for now. The fall of Voldemort had let in all kinds of abominations. It was time to start fresh. And, for man who enjoyed sadism, cruelty, and darkness, there was no better place than the mouth of Hell. His teeth narrowed in a sharp grin.

He was ready to make himself at home.

-

-

A/N: That was chapter five. It might take me a little longer for chapter six. I have a ten page paper due on Marxist thought, which sadly I must write rather than fanfic. I was going to wait until friday to update this, but I noticed in my stats, that I have over 90 reviews, and since you lot have been so good, I fugured I owed you a chapter.

Wanna Play a Game

This is the 'Name That Villian Game.' The first person to correctly name the villian (and spelling counts) will be e-mailed chapter six before I update it. I've given you a few clues, see of you can figure it out. (Make sure you sign your reviews, otherwise I can't give you your prize if you win.)

As ever, Review...I update faster when you do.

Della


	6. Darkness and Joy

Chapter Six: Darkness and Joy

-

-

Duck. Swing. Duck. Jab to the left. Lean Back. Step Back. Kick. Harry grinned, he was getting good at this. _SMACK._

"Oops, sorry Harry. You okay?" Buffy asked. She leaned over the winded young man. Harry nodded and got to his feet.

"Good one," he gasped rubbing his chest as he spoke. Thankfully Buffy was going easy on him. No broken ribs. Harry poised himself in a fighting stance, ready for the next attack.

The pair were sparring in Giles's backyard. It had been four days since their first patrol, but it had only taken that one night for each to gain a good deal of respect for the other. Harry had been throughly impressed by Buffy's fighting skills. Buffy had been impressed by Harry's magic and his protection of Willow. They hadn't discussed this mutual respect, they had just known it was there. However, after that first night, Buffy had been convinced that Harry should learn more hand-to-hand fighting techniques. Especially if he was going to patrol with her.

"What if you lost your wand?" Buffy had argued. Harry had merely nodded, not mentioning his wandless ability. Personally he was happy to learn from someone as accomplished as Buffy. And, magic wasn't everything, as Buffy had so aptly proved during the patrol last night...

-

_They were in the graveyard again. Harry still wasn't fond of graveyards, but vampires certainly enjoyed them. Harry wondered why that was, it was slightly cliché really. If he was a vampire, and could live for as long as they did, he wouldn't be wasting his life, or afterlife rather, in a moldy tomb. He'd see the nightlife...not as if they could see the daylife. He was rambling, but what else was there to do when you wandered around in the dark. Harry observed Buffy as she walked beside him. She did this every night. _

"_So, you gonna go all magically?" asked Buffy, her words breaking the silence._

"_What?" questioned Harry. Buffy had an interesting way of speaking, but he wasn't certain he understood her all the time._

"_You gonna use your magic, or are you gonna try some of those moves I showed you?"_

"_Oh, I don't know." Harry pondered to himself. Could he take a vampire in a hand-to-hand fight? Sparring these last couple of days had helped his fighting skills, but vampires were strong._

"_I think you might manage," commented Buffy. _

"_Really? Okay I'll give it a try," stated Harry. Buffy smiled and handed him an extra stake. _

"_I got your back," she smiled as she spoke. "Speaking of which," Buffy's head jerked to the left were three vampires were prowling toward them. Buffy surveyed the trio as they approached._

"_I'll take big and mean and blue shirt, you take Mr-I-still-think-its-the-eighties," directed Buffy. Harry nodded. Buffy rushed forward first and drew her two vampires away from the third. Harry approached the remaining vampire a little more cautiously. He'd never fought a vampire without magic before, the coolness of his wand holster strapped to his arm was comforting. _

"_Look what I've got," cooed the vampire. Harry raised his eyebrows. _

_This vampire was dust._

_Harry kicked forward, his movement sudden. But the vampires had amazing agility and his opponent moved out the way. Harry had expected the vampire's direction, and responded with a punch to the face. Harry's blow connected. With his other hand, Harry aimed the stake at the vampire's heart, but the creature swerved and nearly avoided being stabbed. Harry moved in for another attempt, when the vampire grabbed Harry's arm. The vampire smirked happily, and threw Harry through the air. Harry groaned as he found himself flying directly toward Buffy's fight. _

_Harry landed awkwardly, his arm tucked under him. It wasn't broken, but it was certainly going to be stiff tomorrow. Still, he rapidly got to his feet. He found himself only a foot away from one of Buffy's vampires. The vampire in blue, however, had his attention focused on Buffy. Thinking quickly, Harry lunged at the vampire and staked him in the back. The creature broke into dust. _

"_Harry!" Buffy called, "He was mine," she pouted. _

"_Sorry, opportunity and all," replied Harry. Buffy ducked a blow from the other vampire she was fighting and gave him a firm kick in the chest knocking him away. She sent Harry a glare, to which Harry smiled, his expression clearly unapologetic. _

"_Fine," she glared. She raised a stake in her hand and moved her arm in his direction. Harry's eyes widened. With a flick of her wrist Buffy let the stake fly. Harry cringed. _

_PmuF. Harry turned quickly, the stake had flown over his shoulder and struck the vampire he had been fighting, who had snuck up behind him. Harry turned sheepishly back to Buffy._

"_Oops," said Harry. Buffy giggled. The final vampire, whom Buffy had dubbed 'big and mean' made a wild attempt at Buffy. Buffy countered but was knocked off her feet. Buffy reached into her pocket, but he hand came up empty. Buffy lifted her eyes to Harry and a silent communication passed between them. Harry nodded._

"_Catch," he called. Harry tossed the stake in his hand to the slayer. She snatched it out of the air, and just as quickly, the wood was lodged in the vampire's chest. The vampire was toast. Buffy dusted herself off and approached Harry. _

"_So, what did we learn?" asked Buffy, a snotty tone to her voice._

"_Magic's a lot easier?" answered Harry._

"_True, but not the answer I'm looking for," replied Buffy. _

"_Uh..." Harry shot a confused look at the slayer. Buffy glared at him._

"_Oh! Don't dust Buffy's vamps before you dust your own?" answered Harry, hoping his answer was right._

"_Good boy," smirked Buffy. She patted him on the head and tried to look condescending, which was difficult as he was five inches taller than her. But, Harry just rolled his eyes and laughed._

"_I need more weapons," speculated Buffy. "Let's go by my house and I'll get a sword. I got this new one I've been itching to try."_

"_A sword?" Harry grinned remember the Gryffindor sword in his trunk. Buffy misinterpreted his thoughtful look, she clucked her tongue._

"_Not until you're a big boy, Harry," she fake scolded. "I wouldn't want you to get hurt." Harry growled at her, putting an equally fake scowl on his face._

"_I'll have you know I killed a Basilisk with a sword when I was twelve," boasted Harry._

"_Yeah right...what's a Basilisk?"_

_- _

Harry smiled as he remembered last night's patrol. Okay, so he hadn't been great. But at least he hadn't used his magic. He could do this all on his own, no powers.

Lost in thought, Harry almost didn't see the blow Buffy aimed at his gut, he manged to move out of the way in time. Alright...he needed more work. Back to sparring.

Buffy smiled as Harry barely managed to avoid her hit. She was really enjoying herself. This kind of training was fun. She still trained with Giles, of course, but it was different sparring with Harry. Giles was quite a bit taller than her, and he used that to his advantage. But, his style was also more tactical, slower. Harry wasn't much taller than her, thus he used a different technique. He relied on speed, as well as a good dose of improvisation While Giles's style had become predictable over the years, Harry was proving to be a surprising challenge. Buffy leaned back in surprise when Harry launched a sudden punch at her face. She smiled. Harry didn't hold back either. Yep, sparring with Harry was fun.

Although Harry appreciated improving his skills, there was another reason that he looked forward to training with Buffy. It was a reason he didn't want to admit...but it was there. Their sparring, well, it provided an escape from his Unc--Giles. It had been four days since Harry had gone on his first patrol with Buffy. And very little had changed between that first day and today. Giles still spent all day leafing through books. The only way Harry was able to have a conversation was if it involved the bloody books. Harry might have left long ago if it weren't for the new friends he was making in Sunnydale. He knew he couldn't stay here forever, but he also didn't want to leave. For once he felt like an ordinary wizard. It was a great feeling. Harry wasn't ready to head back to England, he wasn't ready to be a famous freak again.

Buffy swung another punch aimed at Harry's stomach, which Harry swerved. He was really good a ducking Buffy noted. Harry kicked out suddenly, landing a glancing blow to Buffy's calf. He smiled cheekily. 'So you want to play' Buffy thought. This time rather than going in for a punch, Buffy grabbed at his shirt. With the other hand, Buffy took a hold of his shoulder. Harry leaned back trying to tear away. Buffy held tighter, with a burst of strength she lifted Harry and flung him over her shoulder. Over her shoulder... and across the yard. Buffy cringed as she watched the teen land. Luckily, the kid rolled as he hit, tucking his neck as he flipped over.

"Sshh, super strength must be useful. Bet you never have any trouble doing your chores." commented Harry. He shakily got to his feet.

"Oops," giggled Buffy. Than, her eyes became a tad more serious as she noted a large tear in his t-shit. "I'm sorry, I ripped your shirt." Harry looked down at the coth. He shrugged.

"No problem."

"No really, I'll have to buy you another."

"Hey, it's not a big deal look." Harry flicked his wrist, his wand emerged. With a simple twist of his wand, the shirt was repaired. Buffy eyed the repair job, you couldn't even tell it had been torn.

"Where were you last week? " Buffy asked. "This vamp tore a really nice leather jacket. I could have used you than wizard boy." Buffy paused again. This time she took in Harry's entire outfit. "Not like it matters. Those clothes are tacky."

"Hey," Harry complained. "These aren't so bad."

"Okay, I'll give you that. I've seen you in worse."

"What is it with you and fashion," questioned Harry. He rolled his eyes and decided to sit on the ground, rolling his neck to work the stiffness out.

"I'm a girl, idiot." Buffy stated.

"Not all girls--" argued Harry, before he was cut off by Buffy

"And those clothes...Why don't you just magic yourself some better one." Harry flushed slightly.

"I've...well I've tried to transfigure clothes. You wouldn't think it would be that hard...but what I make turns out worse than this." Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Why not buy some than, you got oodles of cash."

"Oodles? I don't think that's a word," pointed out Harry.

"It is, look it up. But any way we are discussing your fashion sense, not my grammar."

"Yeah because that conversation would be too long." Buffy plopped down next to Harry.

"You are avoiding this conservation, no more avoid-o boy."

"Why does it matter?" Harry asked. He was honestly curious. Buffy turned to face him. Her eyes looked heavenward.

"It doesn't matter I guess. If you want to be grunge boy."

"Avoid-o boy and grunge boy, quite the nicknames I have." Both Buffy and Harry were silent for a moment. Harry toyed with the edge of his overlarge shirt. "I guess I never really saw the point." Harry said softly. "And, I've done a little shopping...mostly for school supplies, and I bought that outfit here...but I always feel like a bloody wanker in a shop."

"Wankers aren't good right?" asked Buffy.

"Idiot," replied Harry. Buffy shot Harry a glare and smacked his shoulder.

"Just because I don't know British slang doesn't--"

"No, that's what wanker means. It's like idiot. By the way, ouch that hurt." Harry rubbed his shoulder.

"Sorry. So...why do you feel like a wanker in a shop?" Harry couldn't help but smile when Buffy attempted to sound English but, he wisely turned away so she couldn't see his amusement. His shoulder hurt enough.

"I never went shopping as a kid. At least not for me. I just got Dudley's hand-me-downs. I guess I just never got the hang of it." Harry shrugged and lay back in the grass. He let his eyes close slightly.

"Dudley's your cousin right." Harry nodded. "He has to have the worst name. Did his parent's hate him or something?" Harry stayed silent. Buffy looked down at him. Harry didn't mention his home much. She got the feeling his relatives weren't nice people, but she didn't bring it up.

"You know most guys don't know what to wear. I mean, I love Xander to death, but the boy has some bad taste in clothes."

"As bad as mine?" asked Harry, his voice light in a joking manner.

"Nope, he's got more style than you." Buffy leaned back in the grass too. The sun felt nice shining down, warming her face. "I could help you if you liked," offered Buffy offhandedly.

"Really?" Harry sat up. He looked down at Buffy. "You'd do that?" he asked.

"Sure, I'm a fashion guru," responded Buffy, she jumped to her feet. "Let's go."

"What now?" Harry asked.

"No time like the present. We just got to get a ride to the mall. I wonder if Giles would drive us. He's not doing anything."

"He's researching," replied Harry. Buffy rolled her eyes.

"That is all he's done these last couple days. He isn't usually so buried in the books." Buffy shot a curious look at a window in Giles's flat. She hoped he wasn't keeping something terrible from her. Harry followed her gaze to the same window, a frown evident on his face. He'd tried to not the take his Uncle's actions personally, he'd contented himself thinking that Giles had an important job and was dedicated. But, it was becoming obvious that this wasn't Giles's normal behavior. He sighed, he really didn't get his uncle. The man had practically demanded he stay, and yet now took every opportunity to avoid Harry.

"I have another idea," Harry smiled and lifted an eyebrow. Buffy shot a questioning glance and him and than her eyes widened.

"Magic?" she asked. Harry grinned. Buffy let a small smile grace her lips. It was filled with excitement and even a little joy. Real true smiles were rare for Buffy Summers. Oh sure, she laughed with her friends...but nightly battles had taken their toll. Very little filled her with a sense of childlike wonder. But this...it was magic!

"Here," Harry said, he held out his hand. Buffy took hold without question. A strange tickling sensation slid over her skin. She shivered a bit and looked down at her hand to see what had caused the strange sensation. Her hand was gone. She was invisible.

"This is cool!" gushed a surprised Buffy.

"Hold on tight," advised Harry. Buffy did as instructed, her vision grew fuzzy. Her body felt as if it was being squished through a tight space. Buffy blinked and suddenly she was standing in the parking lot of the Sunnydale Mall. Harry looked around cautiously before dropping the invisibility.

"That was...that was just neat. Must really cut down on the gas costs," commented Buffy jokingly.

"Yeah, so where to?" questioned Harry. He looked at the large shopping structure dauntingly. Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Come on magic boy, I'll show you how it's done." Buffy grabbed one of Harry's arms and began leading him toward the entrance. Harry's eyes widened, a sense of worry coursing through him. Buffy's eyes were filled with a fire and intensity he usually only saw during battle.

"What have I gotten myself into?"

-

-

"Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" Harry collapsed onto a large overstuffed couch in Buffy's house. He hung limply. Buffy plopped into a chair, her posture as slouched as his was.

"I know," stated Buffy.

"I never knew there were so many places to buy clothes. Why would there be that many shops in one place...it's insane. Total madness." Harry ruffled his hair as he tried to absorb what had happened during the last few hours. His feet hurt. His eyes were slightly dazed from all the bright, unnatural florescent light. He smelt vaguely of various perfumes and colognes that had been squirted upon him. It had been an experience, that was certain, but not one he planned on repeating. And some of the people there...they were mad. Buffy had said it was 'back to school' shopping, but Harry had never seen someone breakdown in Diagon Alley because they couldn't get a particular pair of clogs. Still Buffy had seemed unfazed by the adventure, so he could only assume it was normal. Thankfully he'd never have to go back there anytime soon. Buffy had persuaded him to buy enough clothes to last for the next fifty years.

"I still think you should have bought that leather coat," commented Buffy as she starred into space.

"You already picked me out one leather jacket, I hardly needed another. And, as if I'd need a coat here. Bloody indecent weather. Sunny all day, all the time."

"You poor baby," teased Buffy. "I'm glad you decided to wear your new stuff home, much with the improvement." Buffy nodded her approval from her seat. Harry smiled a bit as he looked down what he was wearing. He'd never been into clothes. How could he have been? But he did like how he looked. Dark jeans, and layered shirts. The neck of green shirt peeking out from under the plain black one. He'd never thought of doing that. Buffy was actually a good shopper. Not that he'd expected any different. He had worried she'd force him into some of the bright button-down shirts he'd seen some men wearing. Harry had cringed when he'd spotted bright pink shirts. But Buffy had been surprisingly helpful, never pushing him to wear something he didn't like.

The pair were both lounging sluggishly when a voice interrupted their thoughts.

"Buffy, I'm home," called the kind voice. Harry self-consciously sat up straighter, but Buffy didn't move.

"I'm in here Mom," the blonde responded. An attractive older woman entered the room. She shook her head at her prone daughter, then looked in interest at Harry.

"Are you going to introduce me to your friend Buffy?" she asked pleasantly. Buffy straightened up and said,

"Mom, Harry, Harry Mom."

"Nice to meet you ma'am," replied Harry politely. Buffy's mother raised an eyebrow at Harry's response.

"I see you've found some polite friends," she commented.

"Willow's polite," argued Buffy, "And Xander's...polite in his way."

"Are you going to stay for supper," Mrs. Summers asked, ignoring her daughter.

"I wouldn't want to impose," said Harry.

"You're more than welcome. I'm glad to see Buffy making some new friends." Buffy's mother nodded her head approvingly. Buffy shot a glare at her mother.

"I have friends," stated an offended Buffy.

"I know dear, but you've been isolated in your little circle. It's good to see you branching out. Now Harry, you must stay for diner, unless you're needed back at home."

"Well...if you're sure," replied Harry. Mrs. Summers nodded agreeably. In actuality, Harry was very glad to be invited. Dinner at the Summer's house was bound to be better than eating with his Uncle. Harry cooked, and Giles ate while reading. It wasn't really an exciting evening.

"Buffy, shoes off the chair," chided her mother. Buffy rolled her eyes but complied. Harry found himself smiling amid the little domestic tranquillity that seemed to flood the room when Mrs. Summers entered. She had a similar motherly nature to that of Mrs. Weasley, a nature that could both embarrass you and make you feel loved in the same moment. Harry watched her bustle about putting things away. She absently ran a hand through Buffy's hair as she straightened a pillow. Buffy flipped on the television.

"Do you like _Friends_?" Buffy asked as she flipped through the channels.

"Don't really know. Never watched it," replied Harry.

"Oh, then you've got to see it," Buffy flipped to one of the channels. A group of twenty somethings were chatting a coffee shop. Buffy laughed at one of the comments.

"You're patrolling with me tonight right?" Buffy questioned. Harry nodded as he watched the screen. "Good, if you keep getting better, you can borrow one of my broadswords." Buffy's eyes remained focused on the television. Harry remembered how just the other night Buffy had beheaded one troublesome vamp with one swipe of her sword. Harry smiled, maybe he should show her Gryffindor's sword after all.

"Ha! That Joey..." Buffy laughed at the screen. Harry smiled.

Life in Sunnydale was surreal. Darkness and joy stacked right on top of each other. Sometimes it was hard to tell where one stopped and the other began. Harry had been fighting Voldemort since he was eleven, but it had always seemed so serious. Harry watched as Buffy laughed at another joke. His smile widened. Here...well here he could fight darkness and still be happy, still be normal.

It was with a shock, that Harry realized he was content. Not happy, maybe Harry had been through too much to ever be truly happy. But he was content, for the first time in a long time.

-

-

Buffy watched Harry as he ate dinner with her and her mother. He seemed relaxed, but also anxious to please at the same time. Ever the gentleman, that was Harry. Sometimes she wondered how much of his polite behavior was himself, and how much was done with some motive in mind. She didn't think he was manipulative. Harry didn't have a domineering bone in his body. But sometimes he seemed so worried about keeping people happy. It worried Buffy, but only in an offhanded way. Maybe she was over analyzing...whew big word that one. Giles would be proud of her big wordage.

Speaking of Giles, what was his deal? She'd never seen the man more distant. It almost seemed as if Giles's didn't like his nephew, but who couldn't like Harry? And, it wasn't as if the kid was a bother. Whenever she went over in the evening, Harry had usually cooked dinner and was often helping Giles research. And Harry hated research, even she could see that. So what was Giles's prob? What else could the kid do to please him? She was getting dangerously close to smacking her watcher...but she forcibly tried to leave the situation alone. It was a family matter. She didn't have any right to mess with Giles's personal life, right?

"So, Harry are you a friend from Buffy's school? Or are you visiting?" Mrs. Summers enquired.

"Well, Mrs- I mean Joyce, I'm visiting my Uncle," replied Harry. Joyce smiled at Harry's way of addressing her. He had seemed very uncomfortable at the thought of calling her by her given name, until she had mentioned that being called Mrs. Summers made her feel old. So Harry had complied.

"Oh, do I know him?" Joyce asked.

"It's Giles Mom," informed Buffy. Joyce paused for a moment and took a careful bite of food. She swallowed.

"Are...are you in the same business as...your Uncle?"Mrs. Summers stuttered out.

"Gosh, Mom, excellent code words."

"No, I'm not a watcher," answered Harry.

"Oh, well that's good...so, you know about Buffy's..."

"He knows I'm the slayer. He's been helping me patrol," replied Buffy. Joyce turned to examine the boy sitting at her table. He wasn't particularly tall, nor was he bulging with muscles. He had a more lean, athletic look about him. Messy black hair, glasses, and the brightest green eyes she'd ever seen. He was a nice looking boy. But, she worried about him on patrol, just as she worried about Willow and Xander. It was nice that he was helping her Buffy, but she'd have preferred a Herculean muscleman to assist her daughter. Not another teenager.

"Well I do hope you are careful Harry." Buffy took a bite of her food and ground her teeth. She had noticed her mother's not to subtle scrutiny of Harry.

"He's really good too," commented Buffy. She shot a look at her mother. Harry blushed and mumbled something like 'I don't know about that,' however, it wasn't very clear, not much more than a whisper.

"I'm sure he is," Joyce agreed pleasantly.

'No really Mom, he is. Harry's a wizard." Joyce paused for a moment. She took a bite of food and chewed carefully.

"A wizard?" Her voice was slightly skeptical.

"He can do magic," explained Buffy, "Go on Harry show her. It's really neat Mom." Harry raised his eyebrows at Buffy. What did she want him to do? His lips quirked as he remembered a magic show he had seen Dudley watching. Harry sent a smirk in Buffy's direction as he stuck a hand up his sleeve, in the blink of an eye, he whipped his hand back out and it was filled with a bouquet of pink roses. With a flourish, he handed it to Mrs. Summers.

"My, that was nice," Joyce said. She touched the roses cautiously, as if expecting them to explode. "They're real," she said surprise echoing in her voice.

"That was crappy Harry," commented Buffy. Her mother shot her a severe look.

"Well what did you want me to do, conjure a wave of fire?"

"Not in the house," stated a firm Joyce.

"Do something bigger," pleaded Buffy. She was still a little entranced by Harry's magic. That travel to the mall today. She'd seen Giles's and Willow's magic before. But Harry's was really magic.

"Fine," Harry shrugged. He tried to think of another piece of magic that might impress Buffy and her mother. Getting an idea from another movie, Harry closed his eyes and concentrated.

"Wingardium Leviosa" Harry muttered.

"Woah!" Buffy called out. Both Buffy and Joyce gripped the edges of their chairs. The dining room tables and chairs had all decided to float off the floor. Soon Buffy and her mother found themselves eating dinner, their heads only a foot beneath the ceiling.

"How about this, is this magic enough," questioned Harry. Buffy looked wide-eyed down at he floor.

"Yes, this will do," replied Buffy, her voice a little more squeaky than usual. Joyce broke into a bright and cheerful laugh. Buffy and Harry shot the older woman questioning glances before joining her.

"You aren't going to drop us... are you?"

-

-

A few hours later, Harry nodded good-night to Buffy and her mother. Both women had found the evening enjoyable. After an amusing meal on the ceiling, they had made Harry watch a movie which they claimed was 'the best ever made'. It was most obviously a girly movie, or _chick flick_ in the Buffy vernacular, but Harry had laughed at some parts.

"Thanks for having me Mrs. Summer," said Harry as he departed.

"Joyce," urged Buffy's mom.

"Oh yeah, Joyce. Still want to patrol later?" Harry asked Buffy.

"Yeah, I'll swing by on my way out," stated Buffy. Harry nodded, and disappeared from their entryway. Joyce stood wide-eyed for a moment.

"Magic?"

"Yeah, he can pop anywhere in like seconds." Buffy smiled as she remembered traveling by the same method earlier. Joyce placed a warm arm around her daughter's shoulder.

"I certainly meet interesting people having you for a daughter."

"Just on the perks," teased Buffy.

-

-

Just as Buffy said, Harry could travel anywhere in seconds, milliseconds actually. Harry disapparated from the Summer's home and into the entryway of Giles's flat. He had shrunk the shopping bags from earlier and placed them in his pocket. He was looking forward to removing his old clothes from his trunk and putting the new ones in. His smile widened. He had enough clothes to never have to wear a Dudley outfit again. It was a wonderful feeling knowing his new clothes had never been worn by his tremendous cousin. No more Dursley sweat in his clothes. Maybe he'd do this proper and burn the old things.

Harry entered the living room, his thoughts bent on doing just that...when another voice broke through his thoughts.

"Where Have you Been!" demanded his Uncle. Giles stood resolutely before the sofa. He had a stern look on his face, his eyes glaring, his mouth was set in a firm line.

"I-I was at Buffy's" stuttered Harry. His Uncle's sudden anger had taken him by surprise.

"You don't Call?" asked his uncle, his words still filled with some sort of cold rage.

"I- why would I?" asked Harry. He was actually confused. He knew he should probably be feeling angry at his Uncle's demanding nature...but honestly he was in shock about this reaction. Why? Why was his uncle angry? It didn't make any sense.

"It's polite to tell your host where you are," replied Giles. Some of the anger had left his voice, but it was still cold and annoyed.

"Um, okay..." said Harry. His words trailed off, confusion still evident in his face. Harry watched as his Uncle went back to a chair that was surrounded by books and sat down. Giles pulled another book to his face and began to read. Harry stared at his Uncle for a moment. He shook his head, as if the action could make what had happened any more clear. But it didn't.

Deciding to ignore the outburst, Harry proceeded to empty his pockets of the magically shrunk shopping bags, but the joy wasn't in it anymore. He merely dumped his clothes into his trunk, piled his old Dursley clothes into the empty shopping bags. The only noise was the crinkle of the bags and the turning of pages. When Harry rose to his feet, he stretched his spine. He shot his Uncle a curious look, but the man seemed to have ignored Harry's action and was once again staring at his book. Harry wondered if his Uncle was even reading.

In an attempt to escape the tension of the room, Harry went into the kitchen and filled a glass with water from the tap. He put the glass to his lips and sipped slowly. From the kitchen, Harry was allowed an unobstructed view of the back of his Uncle's head. Giles had remained rather still, the books almost looked as if they were framing him. Harry stared at his Uncle trying to understand the man.

What did he even know about his Uncle? He was a watcher, he was his mother's half brother, he researched a lot...but even that wasn't right. Buffy had told him that this attitude was unusual. Harry took another sip of water. His Uncle's hand reached over and lifted something off the nearby table, it was an energy bar. Harry drank the last bit of his water while his Uncle unwrapped the tasteless looking food. Harry remembered energy bars. He'd eaten them towards the end of the war. They tasted like crap, but they kept you going and they were portable. They had actually been Hermione's idea. She had grown too tired of Harry 'wasting away' while he worked, not taking time for eating.

Why was his Uncle eating that? As Harry placed his glass by the sink, the answer came to him. The kitchen hadn't been used. No dishes were in the sink, no smell of food in the air. His Uncle hadn't eaten dinner. Maybe...maybe Giles had expected Harry to make dinner? Harry had the last couple nights, although largely because he'd rather be cooking than researching with Giles's books. But, it wasn't as if they had an arrangement. It wasn't his chore. Giles didn't think of him like the Dursleys did, he wouldn't be expecting Harry to do all the household work...would he? Was that why Giles was angry about him not coming home?

No that couldn't be it. He'd have mentioned it. Wouldn't he?

Harry stood still in the kitchen. He didn't like the way his thoughts were going. Giles didn't think about him that way. Harry wondered if Giles thought about him at all. But this whole situation, it was feeling familiar. Harry had come to Sunnydale to meet his Uncle, hoping that he had a relative in the world who wasn't as self-obsessed as the Dusleys. But was he kidding himself expecting Giles to be different? Harry closed his eyes and clenched his jaw. This entire situation was getting old. He had to be more than a bit dim to keep expecting things to change. A right idiot.

Harry walked out into the living room, but at the sight of his Uncle, he just could remain. Harry crossed the room and walked outside. He took a seat on the porch and stared out into the night. Emotions were bubbling inside him. Hurt, confusion, anger...although whether he was angry at his Uncle or himself he didn't know. It was all such a mess.

"Darkness and Joy stacked on top of each other," muttered Harry. Hadn't those been his thoughts earlier? He'd been more right than he knew. He hated the emotional turmoil meeting his Uncle had brought. Yet, he liked so many other things here. Sparing with Buffy. Chatting with the cheerful Willow. Hearing Mrs. Sum-Joyce laugh and tease Buffy. But it was all so jumbled up.

Harry took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. He closed his eyes to the darkness, fighting another inner battle instead. Harry would sit on the stoop for some time, trying to achieve an inner peace...which might perhaps never come. And, all the while the magic within him bubbled and hissed.

A/N: Happiness with a side of inner turmoil.

No one has guessed the villain yet...so here are few extra hints.

1) He is a wizard from the Harry universe

2) Although our villain's associate, the vampire Carsten, might be German...I never said our villian was. Wink. Nod.

Hope you enjoyed,

Della


	7. He Let Go

Chapter Seven: He Let Go

-

-

Buffy walked on the sidewalk toward Giles's house. Her boots clicked as she walked, it was merry tune of clickage she decided. Tap, tap, tappity tap tap. She flipped her hair as she walked. It might have been night in the demon infested town of Sunnydale, but Buffy didn't mind. Tappity tap tap. She had to patrol. And, the patrols had been busy and stressful. But, she still didn't mind. Tap tap. Harry made her smile.

Not since the days of Faith, had Buffy had someone to share the load of patrol with. Oh sure, her friends went along as support, but when the fighting came it was usually up to her. They'd improved over the years, and if they worked together they could tackle a lone vamp...but she was always ready to jump in if she had to. And, she often had to. Not that she was complaining. They were the best friends in the world to help out like they did. But, she was the slayer.

She'd come to expect it over the years. The loneliness of being the Slayer. In her good moments, Faith had lightened that load. Buffy hadn't needed to protect the rouge slayer. A flicker of guilt ran through Buffy's stomach as she thought about Faith. She had hated her so much, but now...all she felt was guilt. Somewhere Faith was lying in a coma, maybe she'd never wake up. Buffy sighed. Best not to think about that. She had done what she'd had to do. It was a twisted logic that helped her sleep at night. And, she needed her sleep.

Buffy smiled as she saw Harry waiting for her on Giles's stoop. She wouldn't have to protect him like she did with the others. Even if his hand-to-hand combat skills weren't the best, he had magic. If he wanted to, he could burn them all into ash. He could do it while standing several feet away. And yet, he didn't try to take anything away from her. She bit her lip as she thought about that. Really, Harry could dust all her vamps, and she'd never have to fight. But he didn't. Harry seemed to understand that about her. No matter how much she might complain about her duties, no matter how often she dreamed of a different life...being the Slayer, it was a part of her. And Harry got that. He seemed to understand that it was something in her that needed that fight. It was her destiny.

"Hey, ready for patrol?" Buffy asked as she approached. Harry remained still, almost as if he hadn't heard her. His neck was stiff, starring into the cement sidewalk before him. Buffy's eyes narrowed as she took in Harry's posture. His back was ramrod straight, his hands grasped the edge of the porch so tightly his knuckles shone bone white. His eyes were actually closed she noticed. And his breathing, it seemed forced and deliberate. Buffy reached out a slender hand, and let her fingers move forward to brush through Harry's messy hair.

"Hey, you--" Harry's head snapped up. Buffy bit back a gasp. Harry's face seemed twisted. It was still his face, but it looked dangerous. And his eyes...there was something different about his eyes. Were they bloodshot? There seemed to be tinges of red amid the vivid green.

"Buffy?" rasped Harry. He looked away, his face staring off to the side. "Patrol, right. I...just a minute." Harry rose to his feet. He glanced back at her, and she was glad to note that he looked normal again. He stood still for a moment, his face staring blankly at the ground. Buffy watched curiously as Harry wriggled his fingers. For a moment nothing happened, and Buffy was doubting her friend's sanity, when to her surprise a slender sword, silver blade and gold tang appeared in his hand.

"Wow, that's gorgeous, where'd you get it?" queried Buffy. Her eye's ran the length of the blade, they widened when she saw the large rubies that were affixed to the handle.

"I thought I'd use it tonight, it's not being used hidden away in my trunk. It's the Gryffindor sword I told you about," explained Harry. Buffy nodded her head in growing understanding.

"Is that the one you killed the basilisk with?" asked Buffy. Harry nodded. "Did I tell you about the humongo demon/snake/mayor that I killed. I used a bunch of explosives rather than a sword...but to each his own." Buffy smiled as she spoke, but Harry didn't.

"Probably was the better way. I was dying when I killed mine, poison, if it hadn't been for Fawkes..." Harry's voice trailed off as he spoke. Buffy's mouth narrowed, but she didn't frown or look aghast.

"I died once," stated Buffy. Harry's face shot up, his green eyes meeting her hazel. "I drowned, if my friend Xander hadn't..." her voice grew silent. Harry continued to stare at her. Their faces locked in complete understanding. Finally Harry's lips quirked in a crooked smile.

"Quite a pair aren't we," said Harry. Buffy nodded.

"Harry are you sure you want to patrol tonight?" questioned Buffy. She watched his face carefully. "You seem a little off?"

"I'm fine." Buffy shot him a careful glare. "Really. I think it will help, burn off some of the... frustration," confessed Harry. Buffy nodded.

"Well why don't we make this a sword party. I'll just grab one from Giles." Buffy's voice was lit up in girlish glee.

"Sword Party?" teased Harry.

"What, you never been to one. You poor repressed wizard." Buffy grinned and Harry shook his head at her cheeky attitude. Buffy smirked and stepped inside.

-

-

Buffy ducked into the house and crossed toward's Giles's weapon's cabinet.

"Hey Giles, mind if I borrow one of your swords, I don't want to troop all the way back to my place." Buffy was already rummaging through the weapons as she spoke.

"No of course not. Why do you need a sword, increased demon activity?" asked Giles's curiously, Buffy usually only patrolled with a few stakes. Giles watched as his slayer looked at several perfectly good swords, as if she was looking for something in particular.

"Not really, just the stuff I told you before. More organized." Buffy moved aside more weapons. Giles had to have something that was almost as cool as Harry's sword. "Ah!" Buffy said as she spotted a silver sword with decorative pewter tang.

"Is there a particular reason you needed the sword of the Cleome Clan?" Giles asked confused. She seemed to be evaluating the sword on some level.

"Oh...well," Buffy smiled a little as she spoke, "Harry's got this great sword. Gold handle with rubies."

"Yes, I've seen it when he organized his trunk," responded Giles still confused about why Buffy needed her sword.

"Well, come on Giles, he can't have a sword that it like a ton better than the Slayer's. What with the creatures of darkness think when we go patrolling and he has a much better sword. They'll think I'm an impoverished Slayer is what they'll think. Does this sword look okay?" Buffy examined the handle more closely, not really waiting for Giles's answer. Giles remained quiet for a moment.

"Buffy, " he managed to say. He paused again. "Is Harry going patrolling with you again?" he asked quickly.

"Yeah, duh Giles." Buffy gave the sword a playful swipe testing its balance.

"I've been meaning to talk about that with you, Buffy," said Giles in a stern voice. Buffy lifted her head and gave her watcher a curious look.

"What's with the mean face, and the 'bad Buffy' tone?" inquired a confused Buffy. Giles usually only gave her this stern face when she had done something really wrong. Usually she knew it was wrong too, and figured she deserved it but...she hadn't done anything.

"It's about Harry. I know you two have become friends, and not that being friends isn't a good thing...I just don't think it is wise for Harry to patrol with you," finished Giles. His arms crossed his chest, his eyes firm.

"Why not?' Buffy cocked her head, her expression honestly confused.

"Buffy, it is merely too dangerous. He's not ready. He's run headlong into this fight, and he isn't ready for it." Giles's had risen to his feet and was pacing before his chair as he spoke. Buffy stared at him open mouthed. Her eyes watched him, a bemused light flickering in her eyes. Harry? Harry not ready to fight? Harry was, in his magic way, as good a fighter as she was. And, he was picking up hand-to-hand fighting techniques amazingly fast. Also, Harry hadn't told her much about his life in England, but it was pretty obvious that Harry was used to battle. Was Giles blind? Buffy continued to stare at her watcher until the man paused and looked up at her.

"I know Willow and Xander have been helping you for awhile. But they didn't start out going on patrol with you. Harry's been here five days and you already have him fighting." Giles's voice lashed out at Buffy's bewildered smile. His tone made her frown. Buffy rose from her crouched position in front of the weapons cabinet, the sword hanging limply in her hand.

"Giles, what are you even talking about, how can you not know--" Buffy paused. Giles's recent devotion to his books. The sad expression that flickered in Harry's eyes when talk turned to Giles. It was all starting to be very clear. She'd sensed it before and hadn't wanted to deal with it.

"Buffy I--" Giles began to say, but his words were cut off.

"You don't even know him, do you?" asked Buffy her words soft and filled with hurt. "Have you even tried?" she demanded.

"This has nothing to do with my relationship with my nephew. This is about your duty as a Slayer," stated Giles.

"My duty. You should talk. This kid come half-way round the world and you haven't even taken the time to talk to him," spat Buffy, her eyes flashing with fury.

"Buffy I--" started Giles, but his words were cut off by Buffy.

"No Giles. It isn't me you need to talk to," Buffy told him. Giles began to pace, his motions jerky.

"Buffy?" a voice called into the house.

"Coming Harry," yelled Buffy. "We're going for patrol, I'll see you later Giles." Buffy spoke her last statement in a hushed voice. Her simple words trying to convey her meaning. But, as her eyes slid over her watcher's hunched form, she knew that he hadn't really heard her advice. Buffy sighed and lifted her sword to her shoulder as she walked out.

-

Buffy met Harry outside with some measure of trepidation. Had he heard their conversation? But Harry wasn't on the stoop anymore. He was standing at the end of Giles's walkway, staring out into the night.

"A group of vampires crossed this way, going into the town," explained Harry as she approached. Buffy looked along the dark street.

"Well, let's go. If you're sure you're okay." Buffy gave Harry a careful glance. His posture still seemed different. More disciplined, his body in a battle ready stance.

"Yeah, I'm alright." Harry said. But, his eyes were focused down the street, where the vampires had disappeared. He was ready for a fight. Buffy sighed, perhaps that would be the best medicine.

-

-

Harry and Buffy followed the cadre of vampires downtown. They had headed in the direction of the Bronze. Buffy quietly informed Harry about the dance club and why vampires might be attracted to the area.

"We'll want to try and get to them before they get inside. Once in, they'll probably split up and seek out their individual eats. It's much better to get to them outside."

"What about the people, won't that area be crowded?" questioned Harry.

"Don't worry about it. People in Sunnydale tend to forget what they see. Or, they make up some lame excuse. Once a bunch of vamps attacked Parent Teacher Night at school, my mom and a lot of people saw it. But, they just said it was a gang on PCP." explained Buffy.

"Oh, that must come in handy," decided Harry. He fingered his sword appreciatively. The cool gold handle felt good in his hand. His magic still bubbled and for once he hadn't been able to calm it. But, it wasn't raging. Just a simmering glow in the pit of his stomach. And perhaps there was a reason why he hadn't been able to calm it...for the first time, Harry wanted to let it out. He felt like he was stifling with all this magic inside.

Buffy and Harry picked up their pace as they hurried down an alley. Buffy nodded to Harry, and he tipped his head in response. Silently Harry disappeared. In an instant he was standing in front of the group. Buffy behind them, her sword raised. They had the five vampires cut off from each end. The vampires paused hesitantly at Harry's sudden appearance.

"Sorry folks, the snack bar is closed," quipped Buffy from behind, causing the vampires to turn in her direction.

"Slayer," one of the vampire's hissed.

On viewing the satisfied smirk on Buffy's face, all the vampire's moved in her direction. Resulting in them turning their back to Harry, which in his current mood wasn't a good idea. Harry hefted the Gryffindor sword in his arms, with a sudden swing, he decapitated the vampire nearest him. The vampire's turned, suddenly finding themselves with enemies on both flanks. The four remaining vampires broke apart. Two vampires approached Harry.

"Mighty big sword you got there boy," sneered a female vampire on his left. "Be careful don't want to get hurt." The male vampire at her side sniggered darkly.

"There is no danger in that," spoke Harry softly. He kept his eyes focused on the blade. The female lunged at Harry, her blonde hair flashing in the light from a street lamp. Harry raised his sword and slashed at her. It wasn't a mortal wound, only a glancing blow that sliced a long line from shoulder to shoulder. She pulled back, bringing a hand to her chest, her face becoming even more white as the blood slipped between her fingers. The vampire at her side growled, he approached Harry with slower steps. They began to move in dance-like motions, each step countering the other. Harry's magic was flowing into his body, giving him a little more agility. But, Harry knew that the vampire was much stronger than he was, and used his sword to keep distance between him. Harry really didn't want to get within the vampire's grasp.

Swish. Harry's sword cut through the air, landing a sharp blow to the vampire's shoulder. He could have gotten the creature's neck, but Harry didn't want to give up the game. The vampire countered with a kick that stuck Harry's knee. With a small, almost inaudible hiss of pain, Harry dropped to one knee. His sword still firmly clutched in his hand.

"Ah!" a female voice yelled. Harry looked up and watched as Buffy was thrown into the brick wall. She crumbled to the ground, her breath coming in rapid gasps. Harry watched her out of the corner of his eyes. She quickly rose to her feet, but a scrape marred her face. Harry turned away. He focused on the black cement beneath him.

"You don't have to bow, on second thought do," growled the vampire he had been fighting. Harry's eyes flickered. Oh, right, he'd forgotten about him. Bow? He never bowed. A cruel expression flickered across Harry's face for a moment. His eyes glowed a subtle red as he rose to his feet.

"You may not speak to me like that," snarled Harry softly. He slowly raised his head, and his eyes glowed in the darkness. The vampire before him stiffened. He opened his mouth to speak.

"You're--" _Swish. _Harry's sword swung through the air the tip neatly slicing the vampire's throat, cutting off his words. The vampire crumbled to the ground, blood seeping from its throat. Harry watched in interest. He hadn't completely severed the head from the neck, leaving the vampires still solid. It was odd how the creature was still alive. Harry noticed motion out of the corner of his eye. His head whipped around.

"Please..." the female vampire from earlier whimpered. She stared in fear at her fellow who was spluttering at Harry's feet. Her eye's flickered to his face, her eyes widened as they took in his glowing eyes. "What are you?" she asked, awe and fear mixing with her words.

-

The Gryffindor sword clattered to the ground. Harry took a deep breath, the air catching in his throat. His hands shook as he backed away. With a hasty motion, the female vampire ran away into the night. Harry's eyes stared blindly into the darkness not even noticing her go.

What was going on? What was he doing? He was letting it happen...

The air caught in his throat tasted bitter, like something had crawled into his throat and died there. His skin itched uncomfortably. And, he was cold. So very cold. Harry put one leg in front of the other. His feet felt like lead, heavy but without any trace of sensation. Harry Potter began to walk. It was a walk of average speed and stride, but he walked with no conscious thought, rather an instinctive drive. He had to leave this place.

-

Behind Harry, Buffy casually staked her least vamp. She spotted one of Harry's on the ground. The vampire was still solid, but its head was almost severed and it had lost a lot of blood. Buffy stepped forward and withdrew a stake from her pocket. With a quick movement she dusted the vampire.

"You need to extend your sword farther to get the whole head," explained Buffy as she rose to her feet. She brushed her hair out of her face and scanned the alley for Harry. She spotted his silhouettes at the entrance of the alley, just before he stepped around the corner and into the street.

"Hey! Where you going?" called Buffy. She moved to follow, but her boot hit something hard. Glancing down she spotted a grimy, blood-covered Gryffindor sword. Why would Harry leave this? She wondered. Reaching down, she scooped up the sword, lifting it into her arms she hurried after Harry.

-

Reaching the street, Buffy caught a fleeting glance of Harry as he passed under a streetlight. She crossed over to him her hands straight at her side as she glared at his departing figure.

"Harry!" she yelled across the street. But he made no motion of having heard her. Rather he continued walking down the street. His dark clothing made him difficult to see. Buffy picked up her pace as she followed him. "Hey, wait up she called." Buffy frowned. 'What was his problem, she wondered. After a few hurried steps she caught up to him. She raised her hand to spin him around, but in so doing she received a shock of her life. Buffy's fingers slipped _through _Harry, almost as if he were made of air. He wasn't solid. Indeed, as Buffy watched, she noticed he seemed to be fading even more.

"Oh...Harry, HARRY." Buffy called her friend's name, a touch of fear filling her words. Buffy dashed in front of Harry, and waved her hands before his face. But he didn't seem to even notice her. His eyes stared ahead as if was watching something she couldn't see. Buffy felt a tinge of panic sweep across her stomach. Her forehead crinkled in worry. Harry was almost entirely invisible now. A flicker of light reflected of his glasses. Harry was gone. There was no trace of him left.

Magic? Was this magic? It hadn't been anything like earlier when he had taken her to the mall. Still, it had to be some kind of magic. Even if that were true, one thought kept repeating in her mind,

"This can't be good."

-

-

Rupert Giles sat back down. His leg twitched in annoyance. He threw back the glass of scotch he had poured, letting the alcohol burn down his throat. Buffy. He glared at the place she had stood.

"I'm doing my duty. As should you," said Giles to the empty room. He rolled his eyes. Yes, that was the reply he should have used...it was hardly Shakespeare but it would have been better than stuttering while his slayer dominated their _conversation_. Fight. Might as well bloody say it. It wasn't the first time he and Buffy had argued over her responsibilities. His first year as her Watcher had been pitted with such discussions. It seemed they couldn't go a week without her skiving away to go to a party or go out on a date. He had really thought she'd matured over this last year.

And bringing up Harry, well that was just ridiculous.

He was busy being a Watcher. Duty came first. It always had. Harry understood that. And, if he didn't he should return to England where he would be safe. Safe? Somehow whenever he thought of Harry he questioned the boy's safety.

Giles was spared his introspection when a large owl flew through his window. It was the large creature he had borrowed from friend in L.A. to send Lily his letter. He spotted a piece of parchment attached to the bird's leg. Giles went to retrieve the message the bird clucked menacingly at him as he removed it. Giles look up into the bird's eyes. He returned its glare with one of his own.

"Bloody bird," said Giles. The bird rustled its feathers and clicked its sharp beak. Giles turned his back to the creature as he opened his letter.

_Giles,_

_Lola returned to me, and I wondered if you needed her for another message. Just let me know, she needs the exercise. Course, she doesn't seem to like you much. Coo' have you heard the news from home. Seems the magical world is all astir. Seems that their savior up and vanished on them. Really, you should look into getting a magical newspaper. For a man who works in magic you sure seem to live like a recluse. Let me know about the bird,_

_Albert_

Giles shook his head at Albert's letter. He quickly penned a note to the friendly squib, thanking him for the use of _Lola _(terrible name for the vindictive bird), and telling him that the creature's service would not be needed in the future. Thankfully.

The bird flew out the window and Giles found himself thinking of what is friend Albert had written. Being a squib, Albert worked in the muggle world. He had a job at an airport or something. Yet, the man was still fascinated by the magical world. He kept owls, more than he ever used to be honest, and listened to wizard wireless. It wasn't strange that Albert was well informed about the magical news from home. He wondered if Harry would be interested in this piece of news...but no doubt the young man had ways of keeping in touch.

Harry.

Alright, Giles wasn't an idiot. He knew he was pushing the boy away. He knew he wasn't being _himself_. What Giles didn't know was why. He had nothing against the young man. He had liked the boy from the first time he had met him. And, the more he learned about the boy the more he liked him. He couldn't explain why he was keeping the boy at a distance.

"Bugger it all," Giles muttered. Once, again Giles seated himself at his table surrounded by books. He looked at the pages. But, he didn't really read them. Instead Buffy's words washed over him, and he tried to figure out why he was such an arse.

Unfortunately for Giles, he wasn't given the opportunity to solve his inner puzzle. His head shot up as his door slammed open. He rose to his feet guardedly, only to relax when he spotted the flash of Buffy's blonde hair. Yet, when he took in her appearance he grew tense. Her clothing was slightly rumpled, not unusual for a night of slaying. A small scrape marred her cheek, but it wasn't serious and no doubt her Slayer healing would have it healed by morning. Rather it was the expression on her face that gave him cause to worry. Her brows were drawn tight, her lips in a firm line.

"Giles!" Buffy called. She took a step closer and a flash of gold caught Giles's eye. A sword with a gold tang and rubies was held in her hand. The silver blade bloodied.

"God no," moaned Giles.

-

-

miles away

-

Harry's mind came back to him in a haze. He felt cold, and his legs were asleep. Hardly surprising, as he was sitting, his feet tucked under him. And, he had a feeling he had been sitting like this for some time. His eyes stared at the ground. It wasn't any special kind of ground, just green grass growing out of brown dirt...but Harry knew where he was. He knew it by the smell in the air. Harry could continue staring at the ground and recite the words that were written nearby yet, some sick force seemed to require him to lift his head.

Two gravestones. Both plain gray stone. They were surrounded by similar stones of similar cuts. This whole acre of land was filled with identical stones. Too many. Too many little gray stones that marred the fresh green landscape of Devon. The burial ground of those who had died fighting the second Dark War.

Hermione Jane Granger

Sept 1979-May 1996

Friends till the End

-

Ron Bilius Weasley

March 1980-May 1996

Friends till the End

There was an empty plot to the left of Ron. In one of his more morbid moments after the death of Voldemort, Harry had bought it and fully intended to be buried there with the same inscription marking his headstone. No mention of the boy-who-lived, or the-man-who-defeated, or savior...whatever anyone else wanted on the stone. Just his name, the dates, and the words. Friends till the End. True his dates would be a little off, but the sentiment was the same.

Not that Harry had thought that the dates would be any different. Harry James Potter had fully expected to join his friends in May of 1996. When he had finally confronted Voldemort on the 30th of May, he found some amount of pleasure in knowing that his inscription would mimic his friends. For, Harry had no intention of walking away from his battle with Voldemort, his plan was too audacious to possibly work. It was funny how he hadn't cared at the time.

Ron. Harry's mouth grew dry as his brain recited the facts. Ron Weasley had been cut down by Walden Macnair in an attack on Hogsmeade on the 4th of May. Harry was told that his red-haired friend had been defending a group of third year muggle-borns. He had stayed behind while Hermione had ushered the children to safety. 'Covering your flank' had been his last words, Hermione had sobbed in his arms as she'd said it. Ron, always sacrificing his life like it was a piece in a bloody chess game. Harry hadn't been there. He hadn't been allowed into Hogsmeade for security reason since Voldemort had risen. It was something he still dwelt upon. His inner doubt wondered if he might have made a difference.

Hermione. Harry's brain went on auto pilot as he recalled the dry information. Hermione Granger had followed Ron a little more than a week later, the 14th of May. It had been a Tuesday. Studious Hermione had skived of class to go sit in the Quidditch stadium. She had done that a lot this week, and no one had the heart to stop her. If she wasn't there ,she could be found in the library, but she usually spent her nights there, when she couldn't sleep. During the day, she preferred the quidditch pitch. Harry went and sat with her sometimes. His pain was as palpable as hers, so she tolerated his presence. It must have taken them ages to notice the commotion. When they finally looked up, their eyes had widened in surprise, identical hisses of anger spewing from their lips. Voldemort and his deatheaters had broken through the wards that protected the Hogwart's grounds. The Order had arrived along with the Ministry Aurors. They two groups were fighting Voldemort's forces, trying to stop him from breaking the wards that surrounded the building itself.

Neither had been in the mood to return to the safety of the castle. Hermione hadn't even suggested it. Both had furiously joined the fray. The curses of the two enraged sixth years had been brutal and had surprised many present. But this attention had brought Voldemort's eyes upon Harry. The Dark Lord had crossed the field, he had paused before Harry. A cruel smirk on his lips.

They dueled.

It was said later, that the wands of both sides fell silent as Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort fought. Although Harry thought that was probably romantic nonsense, in real wars no wands lay still, no matter who was fighting. It was also said that Harry wielded a power and intensity that even Dumbledore could not match. Harry didn't know about that. All he knew was that frustration, rage and grief had leaked from his body that day. Afterwards he felt hollow. He had cast and dodged. He had fought. He had wanted to destroy Voldemort that day. But both he and Tom had grown tired. They had both been panting heavily when Voldemort raised his wand for the last curse.

"Avada Kedavra" hissed Voldemort his red eyes starring into Harry's vivid green.

Harry would realize too late that Voldemort's wand wasn't pointed in his direction. He would dodge and roll to the ground. And when he rose to his feet, Hermione Granger, who had been standing to his left, would be dead. Harry wouldn't see Hermione's face as the cold green light came towards her. He didn't have that image to think on, he wouldn't know how her face had expressed her last thoughts. But, Harry liked to think that it had been relief.

-

Harry's eyes caught Hermione's headstone now. He carefully inched forward, placing himself in the strip of land that separated the two stones. His hand reached out to trace the letters, but he kept his hand from actually touching the stone. He had never been able to actually touch the stones. To do so would make it all too real, too cold. Yet as his fingers traced the air over Hermione's name, Harry could almost picture his friend sitting next to him.

"Its happening Hermione, I'm letting it happen." Harry's words were empty of emotion. His hand lowered and his eyes looked over the headstone. He seemed as if he were watching the sunrise over the green fields, but he really wasn't seeing them. His eyes and mind were focused on another night in May. It wasn't the night he defeated Voldemort. It wasn't a date anyone else would remember, and it was a date Harry would never forget.

-

-

-

A/N:

Sorry about the later update. I was camping and there was no wireless connection. Still, I hope you enjoyed this chapter.

The winners of the 'Guess That Villain' contest have been determined and given their prize. I hope they enjoyed it. I had a great time playing the game

Della


	8. Past and Present Conversations

Chapter Eight: Past and Present Conversations

-

-

Friday May 10th 1996

11:40 p.m.

-

Harry moved quietly. His invisibility cloak was tucked under his arm, but he didn't bother wearing it. Few moved through the halls of Hogwarts anymore. The astronomy tower still had a few visitors, but a majority of the students kept to their common rooms. Even the professors had more deviant matters to deal with than curfew breaking. Yet, his footsteps were silent, it wasn't good to tempt fate. His path was direct, leading him straight to the library. Harry leaned against the door and slipped inside.

"Where will she be tonight?" Harry whispered to himself. His eyes scanned room. Moonlight reflected of the long tables, leaving the room looking as if it had been etched in silver. But, a soft flicker of gold light streaked through the cage that encircled the restricted section. "Again?" murmured Harry.

With hardly a whisper of noise, Harry slipped through to the restricted section. He followed the light that had twisted through the stacks. He paused. There she was.

Hermione Granger was perched over a large book, her eyes trying to read in the dim light from her candle. She was leaning one elbow on her knapsack. Harry could see her school books from today's classes inside, untouched. His vision shifted to Hermione herself and his eyes dropped as he took in her exhausted form. Her shoulders hunched, dark shadows under her eyes.

"Hello Harry," her voice sighed like the wind.

"Hermione." Harry noticed his own voice sounded hollow. He pulled out the chair across from her. He made no motion to remove any books, his face staring blankly at the table. For a moment the fluttering of the page and the spluttering of the candle were the only noise.

Harry looked up as he heard Hermione rummage through her bag. She had dug into the side pockets, with a small sigh she tossed an object to him. It was a protein bar.

"You didn't eat dinner," she commented. Harry nodded as he absently unwrapped the bar.

"How would you know, you missed dinner too."

"I know you," was all she said, and Harry supposed all she had to say.

"You already ate yours," stated Harry. It wasn't a question. He knew her too. Hermione nodded and held up a purple wrapper.

"You always take the good flavors," said Harry at an attempt of humor. Hermione just rolled her eyes. There were no good flavors.

-

11:45

-

"What are you reading?" asked Harry. He was hardly interested. She was no doubt reading another obscure theoretical text. He only asked out of habit now.

"_Atrum Scientia_," she said softly. She lifted the book slightly and Harry examined the dark leather cover.

"What does that mean...my Latin still isn't the best," Harry rubbed his forehead, the lack of sleep was giving him a headache. But, he still wasn't tired enough for bed.

"Dark Knowledge." Hermione's eyelids flickered up, she watched Harry closely.

"Hermione..." Harry's voice trailed off as she continued to stare at him. He swallowed nervously.

"It's not what you think," rushed Hermione. She clutched at her hands as she spoke.

"What do I think?" asked Harry slowly. Hermione ran her fingers through her bushy hair, causing the already wild locks to become more disordered.

"You think I'm going _dark, _That I'll become like them--"

"That's not what I think," interjected Harry. Hermione shook her head. She gathered her hair in her hand and began twisting it back into a bun.

"Harry I've known you since we were eleven, I can tell what you're thinking by the look on your face." Hermione tilted her head. She looked like the old Hermione for a minute. Her tone crisp as if she were lecturing him on school rules.

"I'm just worried," conceded Harry. He looked away from her.

"Worried? About me going Dark!" Hermione shook her head, she took a deep breath and tried to look Harry in the eyes. "I won't ever be like them. I'd never use this knowledge on someone innocent, I'd just stop them..."

"No! Hermione don't you see that's how it starts." Harry's green eyes met Hermione's brown. His eyes pleaded for her to understand.

"What starts?" she asked confusedly.

"It's how people start down the road to darkness. You read more than I do Hermione, who said that the path to hell was paved with the best intentions." Harry reached his hand across the table but Hermione pulled away.

-

11:48

-

"I can't...I can't Harry." Her face screwed up in misery, but no tears fell. She squeezed her face tight, trying to contain the sob that threatened. "I'm not like you Harry. I'm not that noble. I always thought I could be. I always thought that if I was faced with the same stuff you faced that I-I'd be strong and not let it get me but...dammit Harry I can't anymore. I can't sit around casting tickling charms and stunning spells and just expect it to be enough."

"Hermione--" Harry reached out again but she pulled away more.

"I can't. They bandy about crucios and killing curses and we stun them and they just get back up. They need to be stopped." Hermione's voice was wrecked with unshed tears.

"Hermione, you're talking about killing people." Harry's words were quiet, but Hermione flinched as if she had been slapped.

"People That Deserve It!" she yelled as loudly as she dared, each syllable of her word enunciated. Her face met Harry's and she turned away with a sob. She brought her hand to her face to hide the tears that were slipping down.

"Does anyone deserve it?" Harry asked numbly. He stared at the table top as he spoke.

"Yes!" Hermione raised her head, there was no sadness on her face now. Her expression reeked of confidence. "Some People DO!" Hermione's voice carried throughout the room. She dropped her head. "It's the only way to stop them," she whispered. But Harry heard. The two friends sat in silence a moment. Hermione's words traveled over Harry like shockwaves. A part of him feared that she was right.

"Aren't you thinking about killing people." Hermione's voice broke the silence.

"W-what?" Harry paled as she watched him.

-

11:53

-

"Killing. Your extra lesson, with Moody and Shaklebolt, you never talk about them. That's what they're for right? Killing Voldemort."

"Hermione, you don't--"

"That's what they're for, right?" demanded Hermione, her eyes drilling into his. Harry slowly turned away, his face as still as a statue. He stared at the bookshelves for a moment, anywhere but at Hermione. Silence hung in the air for a long time while Harry looked away, and Hermione continued to stare at what part of his face she could see. When his voice finally spoke again it was brittle.

"Hermione, I'm just worried about you going down that path." Hermione closed her eyes and released an annoyed sigh.

"Isn't that a little naive, to think that there is this path to darkness, and once you're on it you can't turn back, it's just knowledge--"

"I've felt it." Harry's soft voice cut off Hermione's words. She lifted her head and a looked at him, her forehead crinkling. Harry rubbed his scar nervously. He'd never told anyone about this before. "I can feel it in my scar, reaching out from him. It would be so easy to let go Hermione, it would be so easy to just... let go,"

"Harry, you can't think that. This isn't some slippery slope, one step and you fall. It can't be like that. You can't think that by killing Voldemort you'll become like him." Hermione's last words were filled with an incredulous tone. She smiled slightly and shook her head. As if Harry had said some amusing quip.

"Don 't you think I worry about," stated Harry. He swallowed as the words ground out of his throat. He bowed his head and looked away from his friend.

-

11:55

-

Hermione's lips quivered as she took in the man before her. He oldest friend.

"You can't think that," she dictated firmly. But Harry wasn't listening to her. He was staring at his hands. And, she had no idea what he was thinking. She reached her hand across the table and grasped his forearm. "No, Harry. You're not like him. You don't have the potential to be like him,"

"Aren't I?" Harry's emerald eyes flashed as he spoke. "He mentioned it in my second year, when he was Tom Riddle. He said he noticed... _similarities_."

"He was lying, our twisting the facts. He didn't even know you. I know you Harry. You're nothing like him. You're good, and noble and kind. You give people second chances who don't deserve them. No matter how messed up your life has been, you've never given into it. At some point in his life Tom Riddle chose to let go. He chose to take that path of darkness, he embraced it. But Harry you won't, you never would." Hermione spoke with a passion she believed in the depths of her soul. Harry's drank in her words thirstily. He wanted to believe her. He wanted her to be right. He wanted her to be right about everything. But deep inside, the part Harry never let show, he had doubts.

"You have to be ready to kill--"

"Hermione," Harry's hush voice interrupted her. "I am. Don't you think I want him dead too? He's taken so much from me. I want vengeance just like everyone else, I know you want it." Harry shook his head. He did want revenge, more than Hermione could possibly know. It burned inside him he wanted it so much. But alongside that burning anger and rage existed a very real fear. Was he willing to risk his soul, his innate goodness...he didn't even know what it was called. But was he willing to risk it by becoming a killer?

"But are you ready? Do you understand how far you'll have to go." Hermione's voice seemed to be speaking more to herself than to Harry.

"What do you want me to say?" demanded Harry. "That I want them to suffer, maybe I do. I hate them enough to power a dozen crucios. But that doesn't make it right--"

"It doesn't make it wrong either. Harry, you won't go down that path, you won't let go." Hermione took his hand in hers. The book _Atrum Scientia_ between them.

-

12:00. Midnight. Ron Weasley has been dead for a week.

-

The Hogwarts's bell tower tolled the time. Harry and Hermione were silent as they listened to the echoing chimes.

"What should I do?" Harry asked. Hermione's eyes flashed in the candle light, gold flecks sparkled in her brown eyes.

"I found a spell...

-

Present

-

-

Harry watched as the growing light lit up the land around him. As he stared out into the fields he could almost look past the landscape and see his friends. He took a deep breath and felt as if the air went through him and cleansed him. Peace was coming so much easier here. Only a few hours ago he had fought for every ounce of calm.

Harry sighed. He shouldn't have let his problems with his Uncle disrupt him so. But, it had felt so stifling and uncontrollable as he had sat on that stoop. It was no wonder he had wanted to release some magic. A reasonable response. And, it wasn't as if he had hurt anyone who hadn't deserved it. They were vampires, they killed and maimed for fun.

But, it wasn't what he had done that frightened him. And he knew it. Rather, it had been his vicious enjoyment. He had been interested, intrigued. And it sickened him. His actions had been eerily familiar of another wizard who was fascinated with watching death. Harry's eyes closed shut. No! He wasn't like that. Yet, Harry's hand shook slightly. He was already slipping. Letting go.

"Harry?" a soft voice cut through Harry's thoughts. He whipped his head around in surprise.

"Ginny?" Harry's voice registered shock as he took in the slim red head clutching a broom.

"Harry, what are you doing here? Where have you been?" Ginny ran up to Harry as the boy rose to his feet. She paused before him, but with only a slight amount of hesitation, she pulled him into a soft hug. Harry smiled slightly, but his eyes were sad.

"You disappeared, the whole wizarding world has been going mad wondering where you are. They...they said you deserted us." Ginny's brown eyes examined Harry carefully. Harry closed his eyes and sighed softly.

"I'd never--"

"I know," she responded without hesitation. "So where have you been?" she questioned.

"It's kind of a long story," answered Harry. With a smirk Ginny plopped to the ground and looked up at Harry expectantly. Harry shook his head at the pushy red head.

"Well, it all started with this letter from America...

-

-

Back at the Hellmouth

-

Rupert Giles clutched his heart and he stared at the golden sword in Buffy's hand. Harry's sword. God No. God No. The words kept repeating in his mind. This couldn't be happening.

Buffy quickly took in her Watcher's ashen face.

"No, Giles it isn't what you think," she said quickly.

"What?" Giles's voice sounded feeble, the words barely leaving his lips.

"He's not hurt, he's not dead." Buffy spoke quickly but clearly. Giles closed his eyes, his posture sagged and he collapsed into a chair. "Giles?" Buffy knelt beside him.

"I'm fine Buffy, just...what happened?" he asked quickly regaining control. Giles removed his glasses and looked at his slayer intently.

"I'm not exactly sure. Something magical happened, and I'm sure Harry did it...he kinda went all transparent."

"Transparent...I ...well I can't say I'm an expert with wizard magic...but it isn't something I've heard of. How...how was he, when it happened?" questioned Giles. His voice was curious and clinical, it was easier to solve a problem if one avoided emotional attachment. Giles cringed slightly. The first rule of the Watcher's council, remain objective. Gag.

"Well before he disappeared he was really kinda out of it. It seemed like he couldn't hear me...he looked upset I guess." Buffy's face turned pensive as she tried to remember how Harry had looked. She had been so concerned at the time over his...not-thereness, that she hadn't paid much attention to his expression.

"What led to this?" Giles asked. His eyes focused on Buffy as she tried to recall the sequence of events that had occurred.

"Well, he was a little out of it when we left." Buffy paused and raised her eyebrows at her watcher, who had the presence of mind to look mildly guilty. "He had spotted a group of five vampires headed into town. We cornered them in an alley. Harry beheaded one, and the four split themselves up between Harry and I."

"Wait...wait just a moment. Buffy how could you let Harry fight two vampires..." Giles's voice was filled with a panicked accusation. He stared at her his mouth agape. "Harry wouldn't be able to handle--" Buffy raised her hands and cut him off.

"Giles have seriously lost your mind? Harry can fight. He's a fighter. You should have seen him roast the vamps his first night out. He dusted two without even breaking a sweat." Giles shook his head.

"Buffy I know his magic might look impressive, but it hardly means he is ready for--" Buffy had stared at her watcher, completely gobsmacked.

"Giles!" she said firmly, interrupting her watcher. "Listen closely. I can see you have blinders when it comes to Harry. When I say he's a fighter. I mean, He's. A. Fighter! Giles's he's been fighting big bad for longer than I have. When he was twelve, he killed some giant snake monster thingy...basalick or something--"

"A basilisk?" questioned Giles. His face paled as Buffy nodded. "What else has he told you?" Giles asked, failing to keep all the jealousy from his voice.

"Not much." Buffy shrugged her shoulders. "He doesn't like to talk about his past much...but Giles you got to get this through that usually intelligent brain of yours. Harry's a fighter, he's good at it. My spidey sense is tingling," Buffy looked at Giles, her face determined. Giles sighed. How could he argue with Slayer intuition. It wasn't as if he knew his nephew enough to argue with her. He looked over at Buffy to see her shaking her head slightly, a frown marring her face.

"I'm so stupid," Buffy moaned. She took raised her hands and smacked her head. "I sensed that something was wrong before we left. He was more...focused than usual." Giles quirked his head in confusion and Buffy correctly interpreted the gesture.

"Harry isn't usually all serious about patrol. I mean he pays attention when he's fighting but he doesn't make it all gloom and doom. He can laugh about it." Buffy smiled slightly. Harry had a way of looking at things that was similar to hers. Sure fighting evil was dangerous, but you couldn't center on that. You had to find some joy in life. Buffy blinked her eyes thoughtfully. That had been what had been different about him earlier.

"Stupid Buffy," she moaned. "He was upset earlier too. He said he wanted to fight," Buffy sighed. "But I don't think that's what he really needed."

"He was emotionally troubled?" Giles asked pensively. He tried to keep the worry out of his voice, but he had a feeling it had slipped through.

"Yeah," stated Buffy. She looked at Giles with a curious frown on her face.

"Perhaps...and this is only supposition, but I know wizards and witches can preform magic accidentally when they are upset. When Lily was eight, she lit Petunia's bed on fire." Giles smiled in remembrance but the glow didn't reach his eyes.

"So you think...you think he's okay?" questioned Buffy.

"I don't really know. It seems odd for him to still be preforming accidental magic...I believe wizards usually manage to control their magic as they get older." Giles sighed and rubbed his forehead. "I have a feeling Harry has trouble deeper than he's told us."

"Well duh Giles, happy people don't decide to jump right into the demon killing business. He'd be going to parties or...hanging out with his friends." Buffy sighed as her head drooped. "Of course this is somewhat _your_ fault" accused Buffy. Giles closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I think you might be right," whispered Giles. But, Buffy's slayer hearing caught the words. Rather than gloating as she normally would, Buffy rose and placed a comforting hand on her watcher's shoulder.

"I'm sure he'll be back Giles. Then you can make it right."

-

-

"So, you have another prick for an Uncle," stated Ginny. There was no question in her words, just a growling of anger.

"He's not really--"

"Harry he ignored you for practically a week," contended Ginny. She spoke slowly, as if Harry was being particularly thick. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Well when you put it like that," he said.

"But meeting the Slayer, that had be neat. What's she like?" Ginny asked curiously.

"Well, she's one of a kind..." Harry trailed off, trying to think of how to describe Buffy.

"Well, being one of a kind, sort of comes with the whole Chosen One gig, huh." Ginny leaned to the side and bumped shoulders with Harry. "It must be nice meeting someone like yourself," concluded Ginny.

"No, she's better than me..." Harry sighed. "I think you'd like her." He turned to look at Ginny who was glaring at him. "What?" Harry asked concern filling his words.

"Harry you're a great person...you know that right?" Ginny asked looking at his face worriedly.

"Ginny..." sighed Harry. He wasn't in a mood for an argument. He had finally regained some sense of inner peace.

"Harry. I don't get you. You killed the worst dark lord in...forever and you act like you're some failure. You go back to the Dursleys, even though you hate it there. The ministry awarded you the Order of Merlin First Class, and you didn't even show up for the presentation. Then you sneak off to the Americas without a so much as a by you leave...I just don't get it." Ginny shook her head. Harry was staring down at his hands. When he answered his voice was quiet. But, Ginny had no trouble hearing him.

"I am a failure. Look around Ginny." Harry raised his face and the look in his eyes made Ginny's heart feel as if cracking. The pain on his face was so raw.

"Harry..." Ginny looked away she wasn't certain what to say. So she said the most cliche thing that came to mind. Something that Harry had no doubt heard so many times. "It wasn't your fault." Harry looked away.

"I know." He said, when he turned back to her, his expression had turned back into the Harry she knew. A small crooked smile. The pain had been tucked away agin, you could only find it in his eyes. Ginny bit her lip sadly. She wished she could help Harry. But what could she say?

"How's Neville?" Harry asked. It was an obvious attempt to draw attention away from himself, but Ginny found herself relieved as well. A small flush graced her cheeks as she smiled.

"Oh, he's fine. He ugh, gave me this." Ginny held up her hand and Harry spotted a ring on her finger. His eyes bulged in surprise.

"Ehhhh..." Harry stuttered, not sure what to say. Ginny laughed.

"It's not what you think. Gez Harry, I'm only sixteen. It's a promise ring. Although I'm not entirely sure what the promise is..." Ginny's voice trailed off she gazed at the ring. "I'm not even really sure if Neville serious about--"

"Trust me, Neville's serious," stated Harry. Ginny blushed. "Promise me you won't get married for a couple years, yeah, I'm already bogged down with invitations." Ginny rolled her eyes.

"It's in the air I guess, strange how not having to worry about being murdered will do that to you." Ginny smirked as Harry groaned.

Harry's face turned away from Ginny. His eyes snagged on the gravestones that surrounded him. So many familiar names. And now, that was all they were. Only names, no people to be attached to them. Harry sighed. For a guy who hated graveyards, he'd spent a lot of time in them lately.

"I should go, you probably want some privacy," said Harry. He rose to his feet. Ginny rotated her waist and watched him walk away.

"Where you going?" she asked.

"Back to Sunnydale for now, but I don't know." Harry shook his head in confusion.

"Why go back Harry? There are people that love you here, at home. Mum' gone mad wondering where you have been." Ginny spoke with conviction. Harry cringed as she spoke.

"I've got to go back for now. Buffy needs me...well I'm not sure if she really needs me. But she could use some help. And I can't be here right now." Harry sighed and Ginny nodded sadly. "But I won't be gone too long. Uh, tell your mum I'll drop in for dinner some night." Harry smiled, but it still didn't possess his past warmth.

Ginny nodded her head, she turned to face her brother's grave. She stared at the name for awhile. She missed him. When she was younger she thought she'd be glad to have him gone. She had enough brothers after all...but she missed him more than she'd known. She shook her head softly. Harry still blamed himself. The dark haired boy hadn't been able to look her Mum in the eyes since Ron had died. He shouldn't blame himself. It wasn't his fault.

"Harry," Ginny spun around. She scanned the graveyard, a sigh already on her lips. Harry was gone.

-

-

Harry arrived back in Sunnydale, and it was still dark. Interesting. Odd how time zones worked. He had arrived in downtown Sunnydale, and he had no intention of going back to his Uncle's house. He needed a place away from that turmoil. Instead he recalled a run-down motel which operated late into the night. It was hardly comfortable, but it would work for the night. Popping around the world and battling his inner demons had worn him out. He only wanted to see the inside of his eyelids for the next few hours. With an exhausted sigh, Harry apparated to the motel.

The balding man at the front desk was rude. He had leered at Harry unpleasantly, telling him that any guests, cough chicks cough, were extra. He also implied that if Harry needed and _entertainment, _he "knew a guy". Harry had shoved the man his money and claimed room thirteen. Harry stumbled into the room, flicked on the lights, cast a quick scourgify on a suspicious stain on the bedspread, and collapsed. He did a poor job of reinforcing his Occlumency, but figured it was better than nothing before falling asleep.

Harry wouldn't sleep well, but it was better than nothing.

-

-

A/N: Writer sobs to herself...do you still like me? (Gosh that sounded needy!) I really liked my last chapter and only got half the reviews I usually do. Must I threaten you again! Here's the deal you review and I write. Even if you hate my work I want to hear from you. So, please review.

Sorry that wasn't for you lovely people who have reviewed. I hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	9. Returns

Chapter Nine: Returns

-

-

There was chill in the air that pleased him. Perhaps that was why he preferred the night. Not that his personal preferences mattered much. Most of his servants couldn't endure sunlight, the hindrance when one hired vampires. Just as well. Darkness was his time, and always had been. But, the cold was a part of him too. That had been their mistake when they had sent him to Azkaban. The chill and despair that were infused in that island prison hadn't bothered him as it did others. But, he'd rather not think of the past. The past was filled with so many dreams left unfulfilled.

He leaned back and closed his eyes. The present was hardly enjoyable either, his new role was rather tedious. Far to much planning, not enough torturing. Hmmm, he sighed. It was the screams he missed. A scream was the most revealing sound in the world. It told who a person was, who they had been. He'd heard so many he could interpret them. Muggles screams were filled with panic and fear, their mindless shells not able to understand the magic that was coursing through their bodies. Rich pathetics like that Malfoy brat had a broken squeal to them as well as a hidden outrage. He enjoyed watching them tremble. Pain was a great equalizer.

Yet, of all the screams he liked those of the _heros _the most. True fighters held their screams. The kept them close to their chests, until the pain was too much. But when the yells finally burst fourth, the sweetest symphonies in all the world couldn't reproduce the beauty in those screams. Sometimes if he closed his eyes long enough he could remember his favorites. One particular scream which had issued from a young man in a cemetery was one of his most priceless. He had been almost giddy watching the boy tremor. How he had wished it had been his hand that had held that wand. He wished he had been the one to nurture that scream. The dark-haired man's head lolled back as his mind echoed that precious sound.

There was little doubt that he had lost what rational mind he had.

"Master," a voice called interrupting his memories. The dark eyes flashed open.

"Carsten," purred the cold voice. The vampire swallowed nervously.

"Mein Herr, a voman comes vith news for you. News of the zauberer. The slayer's zauberer," said the vampire. His head bowed as he spoke.

"Ah. Show her in." Carsten hurried to obey. When he returned he was followed by a blonde vampire. She seemed to hesitate before him, her fear palpable.

"What have you seen?" the cold voice asked. Her eyes flickered to his shadowed face before hurriedly looking back to the ground.

"Uh...my lord. I and my group were in town tonight. We were set upon by the slayer and another. This other beheaded on of our number, I and my brother fought him. He wielded a sword and he fought well. But, he seemed to change during the battle. His voice became cold as ice. And his eyes glowed red, bright as hell." Her story finished the woman kneeled before him. Their master rolled his eyes as the creature's words. Voice as 'cold as ice' and eyes as 'bright as hell.' They were such melodramatic things vampires. But the eyes...

"His eyes glowed red you say?" he asked impatiently.

"Yes, master," she intoned softly.

"This other. Carsten tells me he is young. Is that so?"

"Yes master, quite young." She looked up impudently. He glared down at her.

"What else," he growled.

" He...has dark hair master. Messy, and a strange scar is on his forehead." The vampire said rapidly, her eyes flashed nervously. She hoped this was what the master wanted to hear.

"A scar?" his spine leaned forward in interest.

"Yes, like–"

"Lightning." The vampire stared up in amazement. Her master merely nodded thoughtfully a hungry gleam in his eyes. But, it was only there for a moment before it was lost in his usual murky stare. He looked down at as the blonde vampire cowered before him.

"You have done well. What is your name?" he asked.

"Sara," she said.

"You are dismissed Sara." His cold voice grated at her nerves as he spoke. She nodded fearfully and left the room. The man in the chair watched her run with amusement. With a quick turn of his head, he nodded to Carsten. Back to business.

"Have you heard from the vampires in Los Angeles?" he questioned.

"Ja mein Herr. They vill come. Hundred strong."

"Good," the master's voice purred in approval. "And what of your contacts in New York. Have they responded."

"Not yet mein Herr. But they vill."

"Good. Let me know when they do." Carsten nodded, not needing to told when he was dismissed, he headed to the door.

Now that his servants were gone, the new manic of Sunnydale found his lips parting in a smile. It was too much. A laugh rumbled from his chest. It started slow and echoed, then it grew high. This perverted joy slashed through the silence of the tomb. He raised his hands to his lips in an attempt to stifle the noise. But his twisted smile was still etched on his face even after the sound had died away.

"Harry Potter, my dear boy...what have you been doing." The laughter began again. There was no sanity left in it. It changed pitch at will, uncontrollable. It was almost like a scream.

-

-

Buffy stumbled into the kitchen. It was a lazy Saturday morning. Or, at least it should be. She looked the part, dressed in her baggy sushi pajama pants and tank top. She sat at the counter, and her mother was preparing breakfast liked she always did...but something was troubling the young slayer. Well actually she might be considered an old slayer, seeing as she had lived to be eighteen. But, Hey! She didn't need any more morbid thoughts this morning. With a sigh, Buffy rested her forehead on the cool counter top.

"Late night slaying?" her mother asked compassionately. Buffy shrugged her shoulders but didn't remove her head from the counter. A frown flickered on Joyce's lips, her forehead crinkled.

"Buffy," she said trying to remain calm, "There isn't um..."

"No ends of the world mom, you can chill." Buffy lifted her head and gave her mother a little smirk. Joyce rolled her eyes at the impish remark.

"Well, what's troubling you than?" she asked. Buffy swallowed.

"How did you know something's wrong?" she asked curiously.

"I'm your mother, I can always tell when something's wrong," she said with an all-knowing smile. Buffy shook her head as she looked at the table.

"It's no big Mom, not like end of the world big...Just Harry kinda took off. He, well something must have spooked him or something, and Giles has been a ass--"

"Buffy!" her mother said with a glare.

"Sorry Mom, but it's true, he's been crabby. And now Harry's gone..." Buffy sighed. "I'm not sure if he's going to be coming back," she said softly. Joyce's eyes grew soft as she watched her daughter. Buffy looked up as her mother pulled out a chair and took a seat, Joyce slung a comforting arm around her daughter.

"Oh Buffy, I'm sure he'll be back," consoled her mother.

"How do you know, it's not like he has any reason to stay. I mean he came to see Giles, and well I wouldn't have stayed this long with Giles all bad moody. He's probably got friends at home, a home where he doesn't have to spend his nights following some Chosen one on her Chosen mission." Buffy frowned at the counter, letting her thoughts stew.

"Well, I don't know about the slaying...and I don't know Harry well. But, from what I've seen I don't think Harry's the type of boy to disappear without saying good-bye." She wrapped her arms around her slumped daughter.

"How do you know? He just popped over here on the spur of the moment, whose to say he won't pop away just as fast?" Buffy watched her mother as she voiced this fear. The first thing she had learned about Harry, was that he could be impulsive. Who came to another country half-way round the world on just one letter? Would he leave just as suddenly?

"Buffy he's a nice young man, don't you think?" Joyce watched her daughter carefully without appearing to do so.

"Ugh...yeah Harry's really nice," said Buffy.

"And did he mind patrolling with you?"

"No, he seemed to like coming with me...but he might have just wanted to avoid Giles," countered Buffy.

"I doubt that," Joyce smiled fondly at her daughter.

"What?" Buffy asked noticing her mother's grin.

"Nothing," replied Joyce. "Do you want pancakes or waffles for breakfast today?" she asked.

"Pancakes...now what was that face about?"

"Nothing Buffy." Her mother reached in the cabinet and pulled out a box of pancake mix. Buffy frowned at her mother pensively, Joyce ignored the look and brought out a mixing bowl and some milk. Buffy remained silent as her mother mixed the ingredients. Joyce paused for a minute and looked upwards.

"Harry has such lovely blue eyes." Joyce seemed to be speaking to no one in particular.

"They're green," Buffy quickly corrected. Joyce gave her a knowing look. "What?" Buffy demanded.

"Nothing dear," Joyce turned back to the pancakes. Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Not like you could miss them, they are the brightest green I've ever seen...like emeralds," mumbled Buffy. Buffy didn't notice how her mother smirked before pouring the batter onto a pan.

The doorbell rang.

"Buffy would you get that," Joyce said as she watched the spluttering pancake. Buffy nodded and jumped to her feet. She was still a little more sluggish than her usual Saturday morning brightness, but her mother's words had comforted her somewhat. Harry wouldn't leave like that...right?

Buffy opened the door, and couldn't help grinning at what she saw there.

-

-

Harry walked toward 1630 Revello, Buffy house. He had woken this morning, and decided that it should be her house he visited first. He had been so focused on his own problems last night, that he didn't even remember apparating away. He'd only done that once before, not long after Voldemort had been defeated. He hoped she was okay. He knew she could more than take care of herself, but they had become some what of a team this last week. It was only normal for him to be concerned.

He was also slightly worried about how Buffy might take his desertion. He had just ditched her without saying anything. Harry paused and stared at Buffy's house. It was unusual for him not to know how a friend would react. And, he really considered Buffy a friend. He had known her for less than a full week, and yet he trusted her. Or, at least as much as he trusted anyone.

Still, it was a new situation for Harry to have a friend he truly cared about, and not know their every reaction. Ron and Hermione had been his friends for so long he had always known what they would say. In this situation, Hermione would give him a tight hug than lecture him gently before demanding he talk. Ron would just shrug and say he understood, even if he really didn't. But Buffy...he didn't know how she'd feel. Angry? Understanding? Or, perhaps she'd just be freaked out...although Harry had a feeling that Slayers didn't get surprised by much.

Harry continued to stare at her house, he growled under his breath. Why was this so difficult? He'd faced vampires, demons, dark lords...and here he was too nervous to enter his friend's house. Why was he being so... Harry sighed and took a deep breath.

Okay, here I go, he thought to himself.

Move.

Harry sighed. Of course the real problem was, if Buffy was really mad at him, that left him alone again. Ron and Hermione were gone. They had been his best friends. And, now he worried he might lose another friend.

Shut it, Harry. He scolded. Stop being as emotional as a teenage girl, just walk up there and tell her you're sorry.

Harry was about to follow his own advice, really he was, when a hand reached around and grabbed his shoulder tightly. Harry's neck spun around as he spotted the young man gripping his leather jacket tightly. His other shoulder had already reflexively swung back, prepared to strike the unknown man but, he stopped the motion as he recognized the man's face. Or rather, he recognized this man from a photo he had seen.

"I-"

"I don't appreciate peeping toms, poking into my friends houses. Get a magazine kid." Harry glared at the dark haired young man.

"I wasn't--"

"Sure... Let me give you a little advice, you really don't want to bother that girl. She's more than a pretty face." Harry rolled his eyes at the young man he assumed to be Xander Harris.

"Really, I'm a friend of Buffy's," stated Harry, rather hurriedly, hoping he would be allowed to finish a sentence.

"Nice try kid," Xander said with a grin. Harry clenched his jaw, he hated being called 'kid'. "But, I'm one of Buffy's best buds and I never seen you before," replied Xander.

"I'm a recent acquaintance," argued Harry. He glared at the young man's firm grip on his leather jacket. In all honesty, Harry could easily remove himself from Xander's grip. But, he was getting the measure of the man. Xander was fiercely loyal. It might be easier to just allow the contact. Also, he doubted Buffy would accept his apology if he left her protective friend bleeding on the sidewalk.

"We'll see about that," Xander said. With a firm tug from his jacket, Harry was dragged without complaint up to Buffy's porch. Xander rang the doorbell and glared at Harry. The pair waited in silence for a moment. And, it was Harry's great relief that a certain blonde opened the door.

Buffy smiled for a moment at the sight before her. Not only was it funny seeing Xander hoisting Harry's leather coat heroically, but it felt as if a weight was off her shoulders seeing that the British wizard had returned. She couldn't help but let a suppressed laugh roll of her lips. Harry rolled his eyes, obviously a little embarrassed and upset with Xander's handling. Which, only made the situation more funny. But, behind all the joking, Buffy could see some worry in Harry's eyes. He seemed to be watching her a little more closely than usual. With a smile she leaned in and gave Harry a hug, completely missing the gob-smacked expression on Xander's face. Buffy pulled away from the hug a little quicker than normal, and eyed Harry.

"Don't do that again," she said.

"I'm sorry," responded Harry.

"Breakfast?" invited Buffy.

"If it's not too much trouble," voiced Harry. Buffy shrugged to indicate it wasn't a problem. The pair entered the house. Xander remained on the porch, his mouth open wide. Finally waking up, he followed the pair inside.

"Hello! Did I miss something? And Buff, not feeling the love here," complained Xander.

"Oh sorry Xander, I'm glad you're back." Buffy turned around and gave Xander a big hug. Xander smirked at Harry over Buffy's shoulder. Harry merely raised an eyebrow before turning into the kitchen.

"Oh Harry," Joyce said from her place at the stove. "I'm glad to see you, Buffy was worried you were gone for good," she smiled kindly at the young wizard. Harry rubbed his hands a little guiltily.

"Mom!" Buffy complained as she entered.

"I'm sorry dear, I didn't know it was a secret." Joyce smiled when she spotted the other young man standing behind her daughter. "Xander, how was your trip."

"Yeah, how was America?" Buffy asked. Harry also looked curiously at the young man. A real road trip, it must have been amazing.

"It sure is a beautiful land of ours," Xander said dreamily.

"So where'd you go?" Buffy asked.

"Eh...well," Xander colored and rubbed his neck. With a sigh he rolled his eyes. " I got as far as Oxnard and the engine fell out of my car, and that was literally. So, I ended up washing dishes at 'The Fabulous Ladies Night Club' for about a month while I tried to pay for the repairs. No one really bothered me or even spoke to me until one night when one of the male strippers called in sick and I--" Xander caught sight of Buffy's mother. He coughed. "I hear a lot of things are going around now...bird flu...monkey flu...surprising it being summer..."

Xander continued to ramble along this topic for a bit while the three other people in the room eyed him curiously. Deciding to spare the poor boy some embarrassment, Joyce turned back to the stove top and flipped her pancakes. Buffy and Harry however shot each other wide-eyed glances, each trying to contain their laughter.

"And that is the end if the story, no more questions," finished Xander.

"I don't know Xan...it seems like there is more to that story," teased Buffy.

"No more questions," stated Xander. "Let's make with the pancakes instead."

"Oh dear," Joyce eyed the nearly empty bowl of batter. "I don't know if I have enough with both you boys here,' she eyed Xander particularly. Having had Xander's company at prior breakfasts she knew how much the boy could eat.

"Here allow me," Harry said. With a flick of his wrist, Harry's wand was in his hand. He pointed at the bowl and muttered a quick incantation. Everyone watched with interest as more mix appeared in the bowl. Harry held his wand on it until the batter reached the top, than with another flick, his wand was hidden again.

"Thank you dear," Joyce said rather calmly. Buffy nodded before going back to eating the pancakes on her plate. Xander stared at Harry, once again his mouth agape. He swallowed and cleared his.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb and say you both knew he could do that?" Xander stuttered, his voice a little faint. Buffy's head shut up quickly.

"Ooh can you refill the blueberry syrup too?"

-

After the syrup was replenished, and after everyone had eaten some pancakes, Xander finally got his questions answered. Like Buffy, Xander wasn't too surprised about Harry's magic. Indeed what seemed to disturb the young man more was imagining Giles as an Uncle.

"Giles had like...sisters...like actual sisters?" questioned Xander. He shook his head with wide eyes, then he shrugged. "Guess it's better than you being his kid, that would be way weirder. Because then we'd all know about his s--" Xander's words were interrupted with a loud cough from Buffy. The four people at the table all took a bit of their pancakes. Or rather, three people took bites, while Xander preceded to cram his reaming pancake down his throat.

"Mm-whanks fer brekfast, Mzs Summars," Xander managed to say with a full mouth. He rose to his feet.

"You heading out?" asked Buffy.

"Got to. The parental units will no doubt be sober by now. I don't want them calling the cops and having my car towed when they don't recognize it." Xander gave the two women a friendly smile and sent a warning glance in Harry's direction. They three left at the table listened as Xander shut the door.

"Buffy, I'm going out with June today, will you be alright by yourself," Joyce asked. Buffy rolled her eyes.

"No, I need someone to watch me and make sure I don't run with scissors, or get any boo-boos," remarked Buffy sarcastically.

"Well, than Harry will have to be in charge," her mother replied just as cheekily. Harry smiled softly, enjoying the friendly banter mother and daughter shared. Buffy pouted playfully.

With a flick of the wrist, Harry had the dishes clean themselves. Joyce in particular appreciated this, and left to get ready.

"So, what do you say to a movie? You haven't seen nearly enough," said Buffy. Harry nodded.

"Not another..._chick flick_," stated Harry firmly. Buffy sighed.

"Fine, we'll watch something nice and manly, lots of violence and nudity. How about_ Legally Blonde_," offered Buffy coyly.

"Never heard of it," said Harry with a shrug.

"You'll love it," declared Buffy...although, Harry had the distinct impression she was lying. Nevertheless, Harry followed Buffy into the living room and took a seat on the couch. He watched as she looked under her telly for the particular movie.

"Why is the box pink?" blurted Harry nervously. Buffy smiled evilly. Harry groaned.

"Well it is your own fault for not being more pop culturally informed," scolded Buffy. Harry glared at her. Buffy glared back. Harry finally looked away with a sigh. Buffy smiled in triumph.

"You're just lucky you're cute," grumbled Harry. Buffy turned away, a small flush gracing her face. She hurriedly inserted the movie and joined Harry on the couch. The music for the movie started, a peppy pop beat. Harry sighed. He most certainly wasn't going to enjoy this film.

-

Harry and Buffy had been watching the movie for an hour. Or, rather, Buffy had been watching the movie while Harry had inserted snarky comments. Now Harry had leaned back on the sofa, letting his body relax. He hadn't gotten much sleep last night, too many nightmares had intruded. Buffy watched as his posture became more slack, his face became peaceful. He seemed like a completely different person when he was like this. He looked so...young. Sometimes it was difficult for Buffy to remember that Harry was younger than her. Only by a year, her mind reminded her. It was just, Harry seemed so much like an adult. He even looked adult. As she compared how different he looked now, Buffy couldn't help but wonder what had made Harry what he was. What had made him such a alert fighter? But, more importantly, what had happened to him to age him before his time?

"Harry?" Buffy asked softly.

"Hmm," said Harry. He tilted his head in her direction but didn't open his eyes.

"What happened last night?" Buffy voice was soft and undemanding as she spoke. The only emotion in her voice was a tinge of worry. Harry opened his eyes, his green meeting her hazel. They sat quietly for a moment.

"I-ugh, I kinda freaked out I guess," Harry rubbed his forehead nervously, through his messy hair Buffy glimpsed the familiar lighting bolt scar.

"Why?" she questioned. What had happened?

"I...Buffy," Harry looked closely at his friend for moment. He turned away and when he spoke again his voice sounded scratchy. "Buffy do you ever worry if you're a good person?" asked Harry cautiously. Buffy took a breath and looked at her hands.

"I guess. I mean, I've done some things that could be bad. Things I'm not proud of." Buffy left her answer at that, not sure how much she should tell the mysterious boy.

"Me too, I mean I've done things I'm not proud of. But, I seem to keep doing them. I always seem to slip." Harry stared blankly at the television.

"Slip?" questioned Buffy.

"The other night, I hurt that vampire and I was...I enjoyed it," said Harry softly.

"Of course you did," replied Buffy. Harry's head whipped around and focused on the girl before him. Buffy felt a little anxious under Harry's stare. His eyes, they seemed to flash power. She looked away. "I mean it's not fun at the carnival kind of fun, not like ha ha fun...but well your got to enjoy your work. Not that it's work really, I mean it kind of is...but..." Buffy's rambling trailed off as she lost track of what she had been saying. Harry continued to stare, and Buffy refused to meet his eyes. Had she said something wrong? But, she looked up when she heard a soft chuckle come from Harry.

"I've never heard anyone say that," admitted Harry. "So, you don't think it's wrong?" Buffy shook her head. Harry sighed.

"Why would it be?" questioned Buffy. Harry shrugged.

"The wizarding world has very firm ideas on Light and Dark," explained Harry.

"Light?" Buffy frowned, where had she heard that phrase before. It seemed familiar.

"Good and evil. My past...well sometimes I worry I'll cross that line," confessed Harry.

"Whoever said it was a thin line? I've fought evil a long time, and it seems like the world is full of gray area. Vampires with souls fighting for redemption, and heck some demons just want normal nine to five job. I know we get close to that world...you haven't told me much about your home...or past, but I can tell you've been in the wars," claimed Buffy. Harry hung his head.

"You have no idea," whispered Harry. Buffy normally would challenge such an accusation, she'd been through a lot, but there was such sadness in Harry's voice that she wondered.

"Sometimes we have to walk close to the bad, and when you're so close you wonder if it's in you. But Harry, I figure that as long as you still care about other people and want to help people rather than hurt them...you're okay in my book," concluded Buffy.

"Thanks," voiced Harry. He had meant to be sarcastic, but with a shock Harry realized he meant it.

"No problem...so where did you go?" asked Buffy. "And why with the slow disappear?" Harry flushed slightly.

"Sorry about that. I had a lot on my mind...I didn't even realize I was doing it. But to answer your question, I went to England for bit." Buffy shook her head. It was weird to imagine being able to pop around the world.

"So you visit some friends?" she asked. Harry nodded slowly.

"Yeah, Ron and Hermione. My best friends." Harry leaned back again. Buffy raised her eyebrows and groaned in annoyance. Harry really was mysterious. Didn't the boy share anything?

"Well tell me about them," she prodded.

"Okay...

-

-

A/N: Sorry for the longer time before update, I visited a friend last weekend whose father had died. Lots of deep conversations, and no time for fanfic. But I really want to thank those that reviewed. It really helped me to know that this story is still being read and enjoyed. And, extra plus the more people who review, the more I write. He he he, I'm evil I know.

Not much in the chapter but expect some surprises in the next. Hope you enjoy.

Also I want to mention that Xander's line explaining his failed roadtrip (Oxnard and the strip club) came from the episode "The Freshmen." This this interesting histroy was derived from their writers not me. I included it because I'm trying to stay as close to Buffy's time as possible. Hope that this covers any copyright thing. Not MINE! okay. smiles.


	10. Pain is Tricky

Chapter Ten: Pain is Tricky

-

-

Buffy watched Harry. He had leaned back on the couch, and seemed to have fallen asleep. His breathing regular, his face relaxed. She still had her arm twined in his. While he'd spoken, she'd felt this need for physical contact. As if by merely supporting him physically she might help with his emotional pain. Buffy watched his face worriedly. He hadn't cried. Was that normal? Was he passed the crying stage of grief...did grief have stages? Buffy twisted her hair roughly and frowned. With a sigh, she looked away from Harry's face and let her fingers ghost across his arm, but not enough to wake him. Her fingertips merely brushing softly across his skin.

His friends were dead.

It was a rather short sentence to compact what Harry had spent two hours telling her. Of course, he hadn't spent much time telling about how they had died. He had vaguely mentioned a war, and Buffy hadn't been morbid enough to ask for more information. Instead his voice had run on, telling inconsequential stories about their time together. But, even when the stories were funny, and even when Harry laughed, there was an expression of sadness on his face. His voice filled with such loss. To Buffy, it felt completely alien. Not that Buffy was a stranger to death, no Slayer could be, but she'd never _lost_ anyone she loved before.

Buffy's mind flickered over those that she had buried in her life. Miss Calender had been first, and although she had liked the woman...she hadn't really known Jenny Calender. The dark-haired woman wasn't much more that one of the teachers at her school. Giles had been the one who had truly cared about her. And, Buffy had cared because Giles cared...but death still seemed separate from her.

Then there had been Angel, of course. She had killed him. And perhaps, that had made the difference. She hadn't really lost Angel, she had been the one to strike the final blow. Those months when she had run away, it hadn't been grief she was dealing with, it had been guilt. True self-loathing for what she had done. When she finally came to turns with the guilt, perhaps when she might have _really_ mourned, Angel had returned.

Buffy let her head fall back as she thought about Angel, and with a jolt she realized she hadn't thought about him much lately. That couldn't be right. She loved Angel. She had given him everything. And he had left. She was broken hearted. Yes. Buffy closed her eyes. When she opened them she watched Harry's chest move in and out. It was odd how well this stranger fit into her life. He added a different component that had been missing. He was funny. Not in a Xander way...maybe it was a way only she got. The joking during patrol, others might think it silly but it meant a lot to her. Buffy leaned back on the couch, her own eyes closing.

-

Buffy awoke much later after her pillow had moved. Wait. Her pillow had moved? Buffy jerked awake, her face growing a tad red when she realized her position. She had fallen asleep, her head resting on Harry's shoulder, her arm still nestled in his.

"I-uh..." Buffy's voice trailed off.

"Well do I make a good pillow?" Harry asked impishly.

"Well...I don't know. You're a little lumpy," complained Buffy.

"Hey! Well at least I didn't drool on you," Harry declared, his eyebrows raised in mock offense.

"I don't drool," Buffy claimed as she quickly wiped her mouth self-consciously. Harry stood up and stretched.

"You want to spar?" Harry asked.

"Sure," Buffy agreed, jumping to her feet as well. Then she paused and looked downward. "Uh, actually I should change first," commented Buffy as she was still dressed in her pajamas. Harry eyed the Sushi print pants and nodded.

"Yeah, it is kinda hard to take you seriously in those," Harry said with a smirk. Buffy frowned.

"Hey! I'll have you know a Slayer is always intimidating," she growled in mock anger. Harry merely smiled. "I could still kick your ass," she argued with a slight grin.

"I'm all collywobbles," teased Harry. Buffy rolled her eyes.

"I'll be right back," she stated ignoring Harry.

-

Buffy hurried up the stair and shut her door. She turned around and nearly leapt a mile when she noticed that her bed was occupied.

"Woah!" Buffy clutched her chest, she glared at the intruder. "Willow!" she said loudly, "gez are you trying to give me a heart attack. I came up here to change and you're..."

"Sorry," the red head appeased. She lifted her eyebrows. "I didn't think you scared that easily," she commented absently. "Of course perhaps you were distracted by a Brit boy who until a few minutes ago you were making all cuddly with on the sofa." Willow smiled at her blonde friend and wriggled her brows suggestively.

"Oh," Buffy said simply. "I guess you saw that huh..."

"Hence the hiding in your room until post-snuggling." Willow nodded.

"Willow," Buffy sighed. "Really, he just came early and we talked for a bit and then feel asleep, not snuggling," Buffy declared.

"I saw Buffy, there was some definite snugglege," argued Willow.

"Okay, well maybe some unconscious snuggling. But it wasn't what you think. He...we talked. And anyway I'm still in the post Angel period." Buffy said her words firmly, trying to convey the situation to her friend. Willow's forehead creased as she examined Buffy.

"Are you in serious denial land?" Willow asked.

"No, I...look I can be friends with a boy. Only friends," announced Buffy.

"I know...I've just never seen you cuddle with Xander," commented Willow. With a shake of her head Willow walked towards the door. It was obvious Buffy wasn't ready to talk about this now. She left the room, allowing Buffy to change.

-

Willow went down the stairs to find Harry waiting patiently in the entryway.

"Hello Willow," he greeted, not at all surprised by the girl's presence.

"Hi, Harry." She smiled at the young man. She could see why Buffy liked Harry, in many ways his darker quietness reminded her of how Angel was. Except, this guy had a pulse. A devious gleam caught in her eye as she looked at the British boy speculatively.

"Hey, Harry...you don't have any plans later? Do you?"

"No, why..." Harry's words trailed of as Willow shook her head and hummed. The stairs creaked and the red head made a race for the door, she mumbled something about Oz before hastily exiting.

Buffy came down the stairs just as Willow was leaving.

"Where'd she rush of to?" asked Buffy suspiciously

"She needed to talk to Oz," Harry explained. His own face looking slightly confused. Buffy decided not to question it. Really after Willow's pushy 'Harry interrogation' earlier, she was really feeling in a mood to release some energy, and some nice butt-kicking always did the job. She grinned ferally at Harry, who gulped. He really didn't like that look on her face.

"Ready for sparring," she asked innocently.

"Uh...yeah," Harry agreed hesitantly.

-

-

A hour or so later, a rather sore Harry lay on the ground glaring at Buffy, who was doing a victory dance around the yard. She turned and smiled at Harry, and continued her strutting dance. Harry glared more darkly. Buffy finally finished and sat down next to him.

"You are getting better," she commented. "I think you lasted a whole twenty minutes, even Giles can't do that and he's been training for years," she commented trying to bolster his ego. "Even if you can't beat me," teased Buffy. Harry growled.

"You do realize that if I went all out and used my magic I'd beat you in a minute right?" Harry questioned, a superior tone to his voice. Buffy's eyes narrowed.

"Ha! No way I'm the Slayer," she declared.

"Really," Harry raised his eyebrows. The challenge was written on his face.

"Yes," Buffy said her head nodded in acceptance. Harry jumped to his feet and Buffy followed suit. They stared at each other. Buffy readied herself in a battle stance. Rather than preparing himself for hand-to-hand combat, Harry flicked his wrist and readied his wand. Buffy smirked, all she had to do was get rid of that piece of wood, no problem for a slayer.

Buffy moved in to attack. Harry couldn't help but grin. Getting closer to your opponent worked in hand-to-hand battles, or even those with knives or swords. But when wands were involved, it was like moving closer to a gun.

Buffy made a grab for his wand, but Harry avoided the move by bring his wand arm close to his chest and using his other hand to send an uppercut to Buffy's jaw. She was forced to raise her hands to block his hit. While she was occupied, Harry twisted his wrist so that his hand was in her general direction. She was so close he didn't have to aim.

"_Pertificus totalus_," Harry whispered. Buffy's eyes widened in surprise for a moment as the blue light flew from the wand that rested only a few inches from herself. Buffy tried to spin to move, but she was too close. The light hit her in the side.

Buffy felt her muscles tense up and become locked in place. She felt a small amount of panic. She'd never lost control of her body like this before, she was completely paralyzed. With a jolt, she realized that her earlier motion had her spinning towards the ground. If she'd been able to close her eyes she would have. As she couldn't, Buffy strained frantically against the spell that bound her.

Harry silently cast a levitation charm to stop Buffy from falling to the ground. He raised her up and quirked his eyebrows.

"Well, Buffy you were right. You didn't last a minute." Harry coughed the words_"less than a minute_." Judging by how Buffy's eyes were flashing, He figured it was a good thing she was still in the body bind. Deciding to have a little fun with the air-bourne Slayer, Harry proceeded to dance around her in a good imitation of the victory celebration she had done earlier. Harry was just at the portion where Buffy had done some sort of butt wiggle when a small cough made him freeze. Harry cautiously turned around to see an amused Willow and Oz staring at the pair of them.

"Eh...hey Willow, Oz," Harry greeted. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "How long have you two been there?" he questioned.

"Long enough," Willow said with a large grin on her face. Harry groaned and turned to face Buffy. The body-bind had eased a bit, and her facial features seemed to a mix between her earlier frozen surprise, and amusement at his discomfort. It made for an interesting look. Harry pointed his wand at Buffy and released the body-bind. She still floated a foot off the ground.

"Harry Potter, you put me down," she demanded. Harry gulped.

"Not until you promise not to hurt me," Harry said. Buffy blinked at him her features softening.

"I'd never hurt you," she said gently. Harry gave her an appraising look.

"That's not a promise," He pointed out. Buffy frowned at him.

"Fine, I won't hurt you," she said petulantly.

"Promise," Harry demanded.

"I promise," she growled. Harry waved his wand and she slowly floated to the ground. Although she had promised, Buffy was seriously considering giving Harry a smack for that annoying victory dance. She hadn't looked like that when she'd done it, right? Willow sensing her friends ire, rushed forward, Oz in tow.

"Hey," Willow's voice interrupted Buffy's glare. "You folks done with the fighting stuff," she asked.

"I don't know, I think I'd like to spar with Harry hand-to-hand a little more," Buffy said with a fiendish grin.

"We're done," Harry said firmly. Buffy pouted.

"Well good. Oz and I," here Oz coughed and Willow bit her lip, "Well, actually I was thinking it would be fun to go out and do something. Show Harry Sunnydale. You know the living part, not just the cemeteries," Willow stated. Buffy nodded. She felt a little guilty not thinking of it herself. The kid could use some fun.

"Sounds good, but what can we show him...not much to do..." Buffy trailed off as she spotted Willow's bright face and waving hands.

"We can go Putt-putt," Willow said excitedly.

"Putt-putt?" Harry asked confusedly.

"It's like a game of golf, but without hitting the ball far and with amusing things blocking the hole and there is an ice cream stand, and--" Willow would have probably continued rambling on about the joys of Putt-putt golf if Harry hadn't nodded in acceptance.

"Yeah!" the red-head cheered. Oz gave her an amused look. And Buffy nodded as well. She hadn't been putt-puttting in a long time. "Oz even said he'd drive," Willow said happily.

As the four walked to the front of the house, where Oz's wild van was parked in the driveway, a cunning look crossed Willow's face.

"It can be a double date," she said slyly.

Harry and Buffy stopped dead in their tracks...double _date?_

_-_

_-_

It was a rather uncomfortable and silent drive on the way to the putt-putt golf course. Oz busied himself by driving, while Willow rode in the front passenger's seat and tried to ignore the death glare Buffy was aiming at her. Harry sat stiffly staring out the window, trying desperately not to seem like an idiot.

Okay, he'd admit it...although perhaps not to loudly...but, Harry had never been in a relationship before. Really the closest thing he could even compare to a relationship was the crush he'd had on Cho Chang his fourth year. Harry groaned thinking of his silly infatuation. After fourth year, Harry's life had been dedicated to his training. In fifth year, the pretty oriental girl had even seemed interested in a relationship with him...but... Hell, there had been a war on, and he had been busy training and fighting, and trying not to die. Couldn't a guy be too busy to date? He was pretty sure he qualified. Anyway, being Harry Potter's girlfriend was too dangerous a proposition for any girl.

Not that there hadn't been offers. Harry consoled himself with that. There had been many girls who had tried to capture The-Boy-Who-Lived's heart. And, there had been a few who had wanted just Harry's too. But, Harry had always been too busy to even consider anyone...and he didn't think he'd be able to stand the guilt if one of them were targeted because of him. He had worried about Ron and Hermione enough. Harry sighed he had a desperate urge to bash his head against the window. He decided not to do so, as it would most likely draw the attention of the entire car.

Harry chanced a quick glance at Buffy. She was pretty. Gosh that sounded terribly juvenile, calling a girl _pretty._ Harry shook his head. But, Buffy didn't seem happy about their current scenario either. She stared steadily at Willow, a truly frightening glare on her face. He wasn't that bad, Harry thought. Hermione had even mentioned once, blushing terribly at the time, that Harry was 'decent looking'. Harry held Hermione's opinion in high regard, and had taken her words to heart. So, he wasn't hideous. But, perhaps there were different scales, he thought worridly. Hermione had seen old snake-face himself, perhaps her perception of hideousness was slightly askew.

_Bam._ Without thinking, Harry bashed his head against the window. As he had predicted, everyone in the car turned to stare at him. That's right, Harry Potter the most powerful wizard in England was never going to have a girlfriend.

_Bam._ Harry bashed his head again. This time no one turned, but the girls did raise their eyebrows curiously.

-

Everyone was rather relived when they arrived and were able to escape Oz's van. Buffy crossed her arms, and Harry rubbed his palms against his slacks. Oz seemed largely unaware of the oppressive tension and was examining the crowded parking lot. Willow danced about nervously next to Oz eyeing the 'couple' beside her.

"Willow and I need to use the bathroom," Buffy declared firmly. Harry wondered vaguely how Buffy could know that Willow needed to use the bathroom, but decided not to mention it. Buffy had grabbed the reluctant red-head's arm and was dragging her towards a building.

"Oz, get clubs, then we can't leave!" Willow called back to her boyfriend. Oz nodded his head amicably and turned in the other direction. Harry followed the shorter man, turning to watch as Buffy dragged her friend into a restroom.

Harry and Oz were soon the proud renters of a pair of 'putters'. Oz had chosen a blue handled golf club and corresponding ball for himself, and a matching red pair for Willow. Harry had followed suit and rented himself and Buffy clubs, a green one for himself and he had chosen pink for Buffy as she seemed to like the color. The two men now stood awkwardly waiting for the females to return. Harry already nervous about the entire situation, felt as if the silence was deafening.

"So, how long have you been a werewolf?" Harry asked out of desperation. He winced slightly at his tactlessness.

"Uh..." Oz's expression flickered for a moment as he surveyed the young man before him. "Little over a year," Oz answered.

"Ouch," Harry hissed sympathetically. "A friend of mine says the first two years are the worst." Oz's lips narrowed slightly. He rarely spoke about the pain the transformation caused him. Not even with Willow. He knew it was difficult for her to see him that way, he didn't want her to know about the pain involved.

"She doesn't know," Oz said softly. Harry tilted his head. "I mean she knows I'm a wolf...but she doesn't know it hurts. I'd appreciate if you didn't tell her." Harry nodded, no need to ask who 'her' was. Oz had a strong devotion to the little wicca.

"I know of a potion that helps, if you like I could brew it for you," Harry added seriously. Oz's eyes opened wide and he turned to the young wizard, his face clearly expressing his interest. Harry nodded his head. "Full moon is in a little over a week right?" Harry asked. Oz nodded. The pair stood in silence for a moment while Harry thought about what ingredients he would need for the potion, as well as how long it took to brew. He believed he had enough time to provide a batch before this full moon.

When Harry looked up again, he spotted a less murderous looking Buffy and a slightly repentant Willow. He had the impression that their foray into the loo had been a cover for a more serious conversation. Harry swallowed nervously as they approached.

"Uh...ready to golf?" a subdued Willow asked. Harry offered her a grin and handed Buffy the club and a ball. The foursome entered the course, the awkwardness still somewhat apparent.

-

A few holes later, Harry determined that he was probably the worst putt-putt golfer in the state, if not the world. He couldn't understand why he was so bad at this. He had good eye-hand coordination. His spell casting was spot on, always hitting whatever he aimed at. Maybe it was the setting he found so jarring. The course was crowded with teenagers and families, loud noises and laughing were prevalent. Not to mention that each hole had obstacles. When a large clown had jumped out on the third hole, Harry had been an inch away from hexing it. Harry couldn't stop himself from scanning the area, assessing dangers. Harry clenched his club in annoyance, he hated seeing how the war had left its marks on him.

Or maybe it was the company.

"Hey, it's your turn," called Buffy. So, she was speaking to him again, Harry thought to himself.

"Okay," he said with an unhappy tone.

"You're pretty bad at this huh," Buffy commented. Harry shrugged. Buffy tugged at her hair a little uncomfortably. She was starting to feel guilty about ignoring Harry. She'd just been upset with Willow, and she really didn't want this to be a date. Making this outing into a date seemed to make everything else with Harry so much more confusing. Him being a friend was comforting and easy, the possibility of more was...could a Slayer be terrified?

Buffy noticed that Oz and Willow had moved along to the next hole. The motion was no doubt strategic on Willow's part.

"Hey, what do you say we ditch the golfing and skip straight to ice cream," Buffy suggested mischievously. Harry raised an eyebrow and smiled.

"Sure." Both Harry and Buffy snuck a glance at Willow and Oz before ducking to the left and heading for the small ice cream stand across the street. Its bright umbrellas reminded him slightly of Florean Fortescue's, at least before it's owner had been killed by Deatheaters. Harry took a seat on one of the red benches while Buffy hurried to the counter with their orders. She had demanded he let her 'treat' him, as he had already paid for the golf. If it was a date, wasn't he supposed to pay for everything? That was what a gentlemen did right? Or was that old fashioned? It was entirely too confusing. And, Buffy didn't seem to want this to be a date...did he? Harry decided to just give into the uncomfortable confusion he was in. No wonder he had stayed away from dating during the war. It was entirely perplexing, nothing could be worth this.

"Hey," Buffy sat down opposite him and handed Harry the chocolate ice cream he had requested. Harry stared at the dessert dourly. Buffy rubbed her head. "Look I'm sorry about all this," Buffy apologized looking down at her own orange sherbert.

"What?" Harry asked, honestly confused about why she could be guilty of.

"This whole...dating thing." Buffy cringed at her own words. Harry rubbed his forehead.

"It's not your fault," Harry said kindly. His green eyes met hers before quickly shifting back to his ice cream. "I'm not good at this sort of thing," Harry confessed. Buffy tilted her head.

"What?" she asked getting confused.

"I mean, I know I'm probably not what..." Harry took a large bite of his ice cream self-consciously. Buffy's eyes widened as she caught on to the insecurity in Harry's voice. It was a side she hadn't seen of the powerful wizard. Yet as she thought about, Harry had been rather nervous shopping as well, it simply hadn't been as obvious. She pondered for a moment what kind of childhood Harry had been given where he was more comfortable fighting vampires than he was going to the mall. Sensing how difficult this was for her friend, Buffy swallowed her own nervousness and smiled at the wizard.

"No Harry, it's not you...gez that sounds like a cheesy brush off line, but really. I'm just a little upset with Willow. She was doing what she thought would help me...see," Buffy cringed. She really didn't want to go into the whole Angel story...but as she was watched the rather anxious young man across from her, she made her decision "I kinda just ended a relationship. Or rather he ended it." Harry looked up sympathetically.

"Why?" Harry asked. Buffy couldn't help but grin at the incredulousness in Harry's voice. She had to admit she had been thinking some bad things about herself after Angel left, and to see that Harry couldn't believe anyone would dump her was confidence building.

"I well, he was a vampire," Harry's eyes widened at that but he remained silent. "He had a soul," she assured him. "And he helped me fight. Not that things were always good, he went evil for a bit," Buffy paused. She couldn't help laughing at the confused look on Harry's face.

"I know it sounds so terribly messy and complicated. But he left after graduation, something about wanting me to have a life, and him not being able to stay around and...sometimes I'm not sure. But Willow likes you, and she hoped that you'd help me get over him," she explained. Harry nodded thoughtfully. Buffy took a spoonful of her melting sherbert.

"But you're not ready," Harry said. Her eyes met his and she nodded softly, then with a confused face shook her head.

"I don't know really. It's all wrapped up and confusing. A few weeks ago I thought I'd die without him...but I'm still here. I mean I miss him in a way, but at the same time I'm not thinking about him as much." Buffy's words were muffled in thought. Harry didn't know if he could relate, never having had such a close relationship, but in other ways he understood where she was coming from. He cleared his throat and spoke his next words with a hint of gruffness in his voice.

"It's like when my friends...when they died." Harry stared down at his ice cream reluctant to meet Buffy's eyes. "At first I couldn't imagine them not being here. And a lot of times I still feel like that. Sometimes, something makes me remember them, and it feels like it just happened. But other times, it doesn't hurt as much, and I feel like I'm okay again." Buffy looked up, her head nodding.

"I...I know it's terrible thinking it's the same...Angel leaving and you losing your friends...but that's how it feels. Do, do you ever feel guilty. Like you shouldn't be happy?" Buffy asked. The question had been bothering her lately. She'd loved Angel so much, when they were together she had been positive he was her true love, and now...shouldn't she be sobbing in her room to country music, or something else as cliché.

"Yeah," Harry nodded. "I think I should be lost, I should be...I don't know. I feel guilty sometimes when I do something I know they would have enjoyed, or we would have done together. But someone told me that they wouldn't want that. At first I didn't believe it. I mean it's sort of a phrase people tell you when someone you care about dies. But, then they asked me what I would have wanted for them if I had died...I'd want them to be happy." Harry shrugged as if embarrassed for his long rambling speech. Buffy's mouth opened slightly. Harry glanced up at her. He cringed when he saw the sappy look on her face.

"That's so..." Buffy's voice trailed off as she smiled slightly. Harry was so right, he was right about so many things.

"Oh, gez, I think I'm going to have to do something terribly macho now to make up for that scene," Harry groaned.

"No, that was..."

"If you say sweet, understanding or heart felt I'll be forced to disavow any knowledge of this conversation, and claim that we spent the last few minutes discussing quidditch," vowed Harry, eyeing the blonde seriously.

"No really, I think that was a very...mature thing to say. And it really helped." Buffy stated her eyes still a little moist. Harry groaned.

"I blame those girly movies you made me watch, you've corrupted me," alleged Harry. He finished off his ice cream sending a glare in her direction.

"I prefer to think of it as education, guys can learn a lot from chick flicks," declared Buffy. Harry rolled his eyes.

"We're friends, right Harry?" Buffy asked, wanting to make sure this _date _and conversation hadn't interfered with their prior relationship.

"Yeah," Harry said with a smile.

"Good, now we just have to figure out what Giles's problem is and the world will be a better place," Buffy stated. Harry sighed.

"Its not a problem...I'm used to it. It's actually a rather repetitive story," Harry said, his tone an attempt at indifference. Buffy narrowed her eyes at Harry's dismissal.

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked her voice trying to mimic Harry's. She wondered if she should really press the issue, perhaps one serious conversation was enough for today.

"Just, the Harry Potter habit. I'm always foolish enough to figure that just because someone shares my blood means that they want anything to do with me. You'd think I'd learn from the Dursleys...never mind." Harry shrugged.

"No, Harry you're wrong," Buffy argued ignoring her previous thought of letting the matter drop. "I know Giles has been...off, but I think he really does care. He's just..." Buffy frowned. "I don't really know. But I have known Giles for three years now, and he's stood by me and fought with me and for me and well...I think he might be afraid."

"Afraid?" Harry asked, his voice confused.

"Just promise me you'll give him one more chance okay?" Buffy's voice was nervous. She knew Giles might not really deserve another chance with his nephew...but Buffy had a feeling that Harry needed his Uncle. As long as Giles didn't gunk it up anymore. Harry frowned slightly. His forehead crinkled. He really didn't want to risk anything on his Uncle. He couldn't ignore the fact that many of his emotional and magical issues stemmed from arguments with Rupert Giles. He'd be safer to give up on the stuffy Watcher. But, Buffy had asked. She had asked no nicely, and had seemed so desperate.

"Okay, one more chance...Buffy..." Harry's voice trailed away and Buffy could see the worry in his eyes.

Little did Buffy Summers know, it wasn't Rupert Giles that worried Harry. Rather, it was Harry himself. For all their talk about good and evil, Harry Potter still feared he was walking a line. By opening himself up to more turmoil, Harry worried he might slip. There was something in the air of Sunnydale. Something that made Harry feel like he was playing with fire.

-

-

Buffy slipped the zip-up sweatshirt over her shoulder. In her pocket were a few stakes, but it was still daylight. She had a few things to do before her patrol tonight.

"Bye Mom, I'm heading over to Giles," Buffy called to her mother.

"Are you going to be patrolling right after?" Joyce asked.

"I think so," Buffy agreed. Joyce nodded her head, the same look that Joyce had gotten ever since she'd found out her daughter was a Slayer, graced her face. It was a mixture of emotions, but in general it was rather somber. Buffy knew her Mom worried so she gave her a small hug before leaving.

"Is Harry going with you?" Joyce inquired.

"Probably," Buffy said thoughtfully.

"Good," Joyce approved, "I feel better knowing you have someone to help you. And, Harry is such a nice young man." Buffy gave her mother a questioning glance. Joyce merely smiled at her daughter. Buffy shrugged and stepped outside.

The walk to Giles's flat wasn't far. It had been one of the reasons Giles had chosen the place. And, the closeness did come in handy. Buffy needed to have a talk with her Watcher. What she was about to do probably interfered a little more into his personal life than she usually did, but it had to be done. Earlier Buffy had gotten Harry to agree to give her wayward Watcher a second chance. And, she wanted to make sure that he didn't waste it.

After their ice cream Buffy and Harry had spilt company, Buffy had returned home and Harry had gone back to the motel room he had used the other night. Buffy had convinced him to find a little more reputable establishment, and Harry was currently moving to a small hotel downtown that she had recommended. They had made plans to meet as Giles's place at eight. It was nearly seven now, which guaranteed Buffy an hour to try and set Giles straight. She knew Giles liked Harry. He had been so worried the other night when he'd thought Harry had been hurt. He wouldn't have reacted like that if he didn't care. She just had to figure out why he was being such an as-...jerk. Buffy squared her shoulders as she walked. This wasn't going to be easy. She wasn't exactly an emotion expert. She usually didn't know what even she was feeling until it jumped out at her. Miss Touchy-feely she was not. But, Giles had helped her figure out her own muddled emotions often enough, now it was time for her to do the same for him.

-

Buffy entered Giles's home without knocking, and spotted her watcher not surrounded by books which had been usual for the last week. Instead the man was slouching on his sofa, a hazy frown on his face. Buffy bit her lip when she noticed the open bottle of scotch on the counter.

"Giles?" she asked softly. The man lifted his eyebrows at the blonde that had appeared before him. He raised his hand to his forehead and rubbed it.

"Buffy, I take it you noticed his things are gone. Disappeared." Giles waved his fingers like a magician would. Buffy looked at the foot of the couch and noticed Harry's trunk was missing from its usual place. She quirked her head wondering how Harry might have come in and gotten it without Giles noticing. Her watcher must have noticed the look on her face.

"No doubt some charm or such, calling the objects to his person, wish I could do that," he explained. Giles took a sip of the amber liquid in the glass before him. Buffy frowned and reached forward taking the glass from his hand.

"You don't need anymore of that," she said firmly taking his glass to the sink and dumping the contents. Giles leaned his head back and watched her.

"Why not, a man can mourn his mistakes, can't he, can't I?" Giles's voice was scratchy.

"Look Giles..." Buffy sighed, she hadn't counted on dealing with a gloomy Giles. "Harry isn't gone. He came to see me this morning. He's fine and I asked him to give you another chance, so he's coming at eight." Giles turned a blurry eye in her direction.

"He went to see you," he said softly in a strained voice. Buffy nodded.

"Yeah, he wanted to apologize for ditching me the other night," Buffy turned reflective, "It was kinda silly really how worried he was about it."

Giles stared at his hands forlornly. He was tempted to complain that Harry hadn't come to see him, but he hadn't consumed enough alcohol for him to give into immature whining. Instead he just sat sullenly. Buffy seemed to pick up on his train of thought.

"Hey, it isn't his fault he wanted to see me, Mr. Grumpy," Buffy said vehemently. Giles nodded his head. "Now look this is your second chance to be a better Uncle. First off, remember Harry is good at fighting. He doesn't like books. He isn't a Gilesy Giles. Second, Harry's had a tough life. His parents are dead, his friends are dead and his relatives are jerks, so far that includes you." Giles's head shot up at Buffy last comment.

"I'm not...what do you mean his relatives are jerks?" Giles asked, he sat up a little straighter and eyed Buffy a little fear and worry clouding his face.

"Well, he doesn't like to talk about it much but from the little things...well they were mean to him. Your sister didn't want him because he was different. Those ratty clothes were all they gave him, and they used to belong to his cousin!" Buffy's voice was angry as she spoke. It was slightly funny how Harry's clothing seemed to upset her the most. However, Giles nodded his head. It all seemed to fit his personality. And, it wasn't difficult for Giles to imagine Petunia mistreating a magical child. She'd hated Lily. Giles rubbed his forehead wearily. Buffy was wrong, this wasn't his second chance at being an Uncle, it was his third.

"When's he coming?" Giles muttered softly.

"In about a half hour now," supplied Buffy. She sniffed the air speculatively. "And he really shouldn't find a smelly Watcher in a living room that smells like a bar. Scoot upstairs and tidy up and I'll open some windows," the slayer said. Giles nodded and stood from his couch woozily. The living room spun for a moment and Giles waited for it to settle before he headed to the stairs. He paused.

"Buffy...why are you doing this?" Giles's voice wasn't malicious, merely curious. He seemed to be evaluating his slayer as he watched her. Buffy shrugged.

"I...I think you need him," her voice was quiet. Giles lowered his head. Was his need for family connection that transparent? He looked up when Buffy's voice spoke again.

"And, I think he needs you too. He seems so alone, don't screw this up." The way Buffy phrased her words might have been insulting, but her face was so open and serious. Certainly not the Buffy Giles was used to dealing with. His jaw grew firm as he nodded.

-

Buffy did as she had promised. The windows were opened and she cleared any trace of alcohol from the room. She plopped down on the couch and listened to the sound of the water running upstairs and Giles stumbling around. It had grown rather quiet up there when she heard a soft knock on the door. Buffy moved forward and found Harry standing on the stoop. He still seemed to be a little nervous. She smiled at him warmly and he seemed pleased to see her there. Something tensed in her stomach when she saw that nervous smile of his.

"Hey," he greeted. She nodded. She returned to the couch and collapsed back onto it with her usual grace. Harry sat beside her.

"Buffy?" a voice called from upstairs.

"Harry's here Giles," Buffy called. At her words, said young man rose to his feet. He began to pace slightly, but stopped when Giles appeared. The older man stood silently at the foot of the stairs, his hair still damp from the shower he had taken to clear his head. Buffy's eyes flickered between the pair of them.

"Well, I'm going to take a quick patrol, leave you two alone. Umm...I'll be in the cemetery off of Kings street, if you need me. If I don't see you I'll swing by later..kay?" she said. Harry nodded grimly. He really didn't want her to leave. But, he couldn't have Buffy there to hold his hand through this. Give Harry a good fight any day. He was shite with this emotional argument junk. Buffy nodded again to the two men before crossing to the door and exiting.

For a moment both men stood uncertainly. Then, Giles shook his head and approached his nephew.

"I'm sorry Harry," Giles stammered. It was a sadly short pile of words to try and say what he wanted too. He only hoped it might be enough. Harry shrugged and sat back on the sofa, his back hunched.

"I understand," Harry stated, his voice slightly hollow.

"You do?" Giles asked, slightly confused by the boy's lack of response.

"Look, I'm used to it. Not being wanted. I just wish you would have said something, I told you the first day I'd find somewhere else to stay." Harry's voice was steady.

"No, that's not it," Giles alleged, he took another step towards his nephew. He clenched his fingers trying to explain.

"Don't I?" Harry's head shot up as he sent a challenging glare towards his Uncle. "I'm not stupid, it should be a bloody musical by now. The picture it clear, the Dursley's made sure of that." Harry swallowed the anger away, trying to remain as calm as he could. The magic was already simmering inside him, but he vindictively shoved it back down.

"The Dursley's are a load of tripe. Petunia always was, I have no doubt she's changed very little over the years." Giles's vehemence shocked Harry enough to look up. He stared at Giles who fidgeted slightly. Those bright green eyes looked liked they could read your soul. They seemed more alight than Lily or his mother's ever had. He turned away and seemed to be struggling not to say something. He shook his head.

"Like you're any better," Harry whispered. A small breeze seemed to blow through the room, and it had nothing to do with the open windows. Giles blanched at the boy's words. He had a point. Who was he to ridicule the Dursely's. He hadn't done anything for the boy.

"Look, I'm sorry I wasn't there for you before, when you were little...I should have--"

"No," Harry spoke interrupting Giles's words. "That's okay. I understand. You had a destiny. A Path. Something you couldn't escape. I get that. I'm not upset about that. I just...I don't want to be treated like that again. I won't!" Harry's words cut through the chilled air. Giles shivered and watched as the papers on his table stirred, but he ignored that as he focused on Harry.

"How did they treat you?" he asked. His voice was filled with an anxiety, and he wondered if he really wanted to know. Harry cringed at Giles words, in flash he had jumped to his feet and began pacing.

"I was their bloody slave! I cooked, I cleaned. And magic, I was punished for it before I even knew what it was. If I was lucky they pretended I didn't exist. They acted like I wasn't there, I didn't matter." Harry's words were accompanied by the table rattling, but as soon as he stopped he took a deep breath and the movement stopped. Giles hadn't even noticed the magical discharge, rather he winced as he heard Harry's words. It was certainly not the childhood he would have wanted for Lily's son. But, what caused him the most pain, was realizing how his own actions of late had mimicked Petunia's.

"I'm sorry--" Giles started, but his words were cut off by Harry. The young man waved his arm, brushing Giles's words aside.

"Stop apologizing, you did the same thing." Giles sighed in defeat. Harry turned his back on his Uncle and stared at the room he was in as if he had never seen it before. "What is it, what is it about me that makes people act like that. I don't understand." Giles could have kicked himself as he listened to the strength in his nephew's voice. How could a person say that, believe that so assuredly. He didn't say it in complaint, or even anger, his tone was only of confusion. It must have taken a great deal of strength to hide the hurt in those words.

"I didn't...I didn't do that because of anything about you Harry," Giles said, embarrassment clouding his words. Harry turned to his Uncle and looked at him speculatively.

"Then why?" Harry's eyes were like emerald chips and Giles found himself saying something he hadn't even known was true, but as soon as he said the words, he knew it was.

"I wanted to protect you," he blurted. Giles paused. Yes, he hadn't wanted to get close to his nephew for fear of bringing the boy danger. "I...you have to understand Harry. Well, the life I've chosen, well, it isn't a safe one. Anyone connected to the Slayer is at risk, there aren't many happy endings for Slayer or Watcher. I wanted to protect you from that. I thought if we didn't connect, you would go home and be safe." Giles tasted the words as he spoke them. He had sputtered a bit at first, but now that he'd said them he knew they were honest. He glanced up nervously at his nephew, hoping the young man would believe him. What he saw surprised him.

"Hha..." Harry chuckled, he bent his head back and laughed. It wasn't a particularly happy laugh, but he couldn't help but find the irony funny. "So this is what if feels like, no wonder they were so pissed with me."

"What?" queried Giles, this wasn't the reaction he had expected.

"I've stood where you're standing," Harry stated. "I tried to push my friends away. I thought they would be safer away from me. They reacted as I did, upset. Hermione even slapped me. Never seen her hit anyone except Malfoy. At the time I couldn't understand why they were mad. Didn't they understand that I was protecting them? I was doing it for them. Now I know why they were so mad, this sucks. And, it doesn't help anyone." Harry shook his head. His eyes flicked back to his Uncle, all the humor gone from his face.

"I can take care of myself Uncle Rupert," Harry said firmly. And, in that moment Giles had no doubt that Buffy was right. Harry was a fighter.

"So Buffy has been telling me. She rather drilled it into my skull actually." Giles shrugged as he spoke and Harry smiled.

"I imagine she enjoyed that," commented Harry.

"I wouldn't be surprised," Giles replied dryly. His face turned serious as he turned back to Harry. "I know very little about you," Giles said a little sadly. Harry swallowed.

"Maybe that's better," he muttered darkly. "Judge me on what you see. Any other way never seems to be as honest. And, there are things in my past...well things I'm not quite proud off." Harry sighed as he spoke, and his face seemed weary.

"There is a darkness in everyone's past," stated Giles. His eyes were far away as he recalled his own mistakes, his own darkness.

"That's just it. I'm not supposed to have any. I'm supposed to be the perfect Light wizard. But every time I try, it always seems like bad things happen that require me to do things...things I regret. Things no one should have to do." Harry's voice became weaker and weaker as he spoke, he seemed to be speaking more to himself than Giles. "I guess I'm only human," Harry said. Giles noted that Harry seemed disappointed as he said it.

"That's all any of us can be." Harry remained silent as his Uncle's words washed over him. After all the expectation placed on him by friend and stranger alike, it was a comforting phrase. He was only human, filled with flaws and virtues. He was only human, and that was all he could be.

Giles nodded as he saw Harry let the words soak in. The young man seemed a little lighter by his words. Raising a hand to his mouth, he rubbed his lips with his knuckles.

"I guess I better go help Buffy...if...well, if we're okay." Giles nodded to the young man.

"I think we might be Harry, I think we might be."

-

-

The King Street graveyard was the one closest to Giles's house. It was also the once closest to hers, which usually meant reduced activity. What vampire would be fool enough to live right by a Slayer? Although, with the way the way vampires and demons had been acting lately, it wouldn't surprise Buffy if some cocky vampire group decided to set up shop right in her own back yard. But, so far the graveyard was as silent as usual. Buffy glanced at the becoming silver watch she wore on her wrist. She'd been gone for a half hour, probably not long enough for Harry and Giles to be done. She felt more than a little bored. She really wasn't fond of patrolling alone. Even if was just Willow of Xander's friendly company, it was enough to make the time go faster. Harry could be even more amusing at times. He joked about the strangest things. He was often funny when he didn't mean to be, which was even more hilarious. She sincerely hoped that Giles and Harry figured out whatever problem they had. She liked them both, and she didn't want to loose Harry. Indeed the idea of Harry leaving seemed like a terrible thing. Which was unusual for their short acquaintance. She puzzled over this thought for a moment. Maybe it was because he seemed to understand her so well. Maybe it was because on the way he listened. He'd been so cute trying to sympathize with her today at the ice cream parlor. She knew it had cost him a few guy points, but he had let down his guard. It meant a lot.

Buffy brushed her fingers through her blonde hair. She really should stop thinking about Harry. Hmmm, what else could she think about. Her mind drew a blank. Well, was it really her fault? Harry had been the most interesting thing to happen to her this summer. It wasn't everyday that the Slayer met a new friend and new ally.

"Hmm, the Slayer," a soft voice said to her left. She whipped around focusing on the shadows of an oak tree. A man stood leaning against the bark, his eyes were the only thing that caught the light and they glittered.

"I smelled your power and had to come and meet you. I have heard so many things." The man stepped forward and as Buffy examined him she paused. She had been readying her stake, but as he had entered the moonlight, she had recognized him for what he was...a human. Of course, he was one of the strangest humans she had seen. His accent was British, that she could place. But the rest of him was definitely odd. He was dressed in what appeared to be long, black robe, indeed it looked very much like a dress. His hair was long as well, tied back in pony-tail. His face was thin, and rather pale. His dark eyes still twinkled at her. He was 'relatively young'. That was a phrase she used to describe people who were adult but perhaps younger than her mother. His body was slender and although she couldn't tell much because of the dress, he seemed strong. She tensed slightly but didn't draw her stake. He was, after all, human.

"Yeah, and who might you be? Some cross-dressing vampire wanna be?" she asked tartly. A snide look appeared on the man's face, but it lasted only a moment and was replaced by a disarming smile. The expression seemed out of place on the man's cold face. Buffy tensed, she didn't know what it was but she sensed something not right about this man.

"Hmm, my clothing would be unusual to you, being a muggle. But I wasn't told how witty you are."

"Muggle? Wait, are you one of Harry's friends?" Buffy asked unsurely. Somehow she doubted it, this man seemed to exude coldness as much as Harry did warmth.

"In a sense, I first met him when he was thirteen, but I've known about him much longer. Who doesn't know about the legendary Harry Potter?" Buffy cringed slightly. There was something about the way he said Harry's name. His tone was genial...but Buffy had the strangest feeling that he usually said Harry's name quite differently.

"Oh," was all she said. The man smiled wider, all his teeth and gums showing. There was something wrong with that smile.

"I must say Miss Summers, I hadn't expected you to be so lovely." His voice seemed to slide over her skin, making her feel dirty. He licked his lips for a moment before returning to the same smile. "I'm told Miss Summers that a Vampire Slayer is a hero. A protector of the innocent, is that true?" his voice was innocuous, as if her were merely collecting information. But his eyes, they seemed to gleam with some kind of hunger.

"Uh, yeah..." Buffy's voice trailed off as the man's smile became less forced.

"I must say Miss Summers, I have a particular fondness for heros..." Buffy tensed. Had this been any other man she might have thought he was flirting with her...but his voice seemed to be suggesting something else. And his eyes, they seemed to glow madly.

"Uh...okay..." Buffy's words trailed away. She had a really bad feeling about this now and was about to turn away when the man spoke again.

"Yes, I truly do. _Crucio_." The strange words left the man's mouth, and it seemed as if something invisible flew through the air. But, Buffy didn't have long to wonder what it was, an instant later she fell to the ground all her muscles shaking in pain. She yelled out at the sudden pain that seemed to flair from every nerve in her body. She'd never felt anything like this before. Then, as soon as it had come, it was gone. Buffy rolled into a crouched position trying to catch her breath.

"No, no, no. Truly embarrassing Miss Summers. A hero must never give into the pain so easily. I see the reputation of the Slayer really has been exaggerated." Buffy growled in anger. Human or not she was going to beat this little twit black and blue. Buffy jumped into the air, ignoring the pain that still ached in her body. Countering her actions quite smoothly, the man took a step back.

"_Crucio,_" his voice repeated. Buffy fell to the ground as once again the pain engulfed her. This time she held her screams to her. She wouldn't be mocked. Yet, the pain was so much. She felt like she was swamped in pain. Nothing made sense. She couldn't even feel the cool ground beneath her. All was pain. Soon her vow to 'not scream' faded away under the pressure of this never ending pain.

"Much better Miss Summers." A cold voice broke through her mind. The pain was gone she realized, yet her body still trembled. "I believe Harry lasted longer...but than he was used to this. He knew what it was. But, still impressive. Particularly for a muggle." Buffy blinked. Her thoughts were starting to be more organized. This man was a wizard, which meant he had a wand, if only she could get near enough to take it away. Buffy once again pulled herself from the ground. She heard a laugh as she struggled. Raising her head subtly she took in the man before her. His hands rested by his hips, his wand must be there. If only she could...

"_Crucio_" the voice said once again.

Buffy fell on her back this time. Her eyes rolled around in her head, but she couldn't close them. Amid all the pain she watched in growing anger as the man before her laughed. Yet, her body couldn't respond. She was forced to lie there as the pain wracked through her. And there was a loud noise nearby, so loud. It sounded like someone was screaming.

Then, from the left a dark shape darted and knocked the laughing man to the ground. The pain disappeared. Buffy's vision blurred in and out. The darkness closing in on her. She heard a loud pop, which made no sense, and then noticed a dark form standing over her. She trembled as the figure lifted her into its arms, cradling her gently. Yet, no matter how gentle the figure could be, its touch still brought sparks of pain that made her cringe.

"Buffy?" a male voice said, worry plain in its tone.

"Harry?" she managed to say in a hopeful tone. She felt the body under her tense.

"Who's Harry," the deep baritone asked.

"Angel?"

-

-

-

A/N: I hope that you'll excuse the lateness of this chapter. In an attempt to apologize, I've given you quite a longer chapter than usual. I hope you enjoyed it. Please review. I do try to contact those that I can. Also, if you are curious as to my progress in updating, I'm going to be posting my status on my profile page, feel free to check if you like. Smile.

I would in particular like to know what you thought of my more fluffy emotional scenes. Sigh, I'm afraid that for a girl I'm rather poor when it comes to writing romance. (Partly the reason this update took longer) Thus I'd appreciate any comments as they help. Anyone who knows me knows I'm not upset in the least about constructive criticism, or even the less constructive. Wink. Be brutal if you can, but most of all review. Even if you just say you liked it. It truly keeps me writing. I promise.

Love and kisses,

Della


	11. He Has a Name

Chapter Eleven: He Has a Name

-

-

The night air slid across Harry's skin as he approached the King street cemetery where Buffy was waiting for him. Being the paranoid person that he was, Harry's gaze shifted around cautiously. In all actuality he could apparate to the graveyard, but he wanted a few minutes to relax after the conversation with his Uncle. Over the last few days he felt as if his emotions had been ripped out of his chest, squeezed and then shoved back in. It was chaotic, and Harry was looking forward to a much more peaceful time in Sunnydale, or as peaceful as a town invaded with darkness could be.

Speaking of darkness, Harry sidestepped another river of dark magic. He really should ask Giles what caused this. Surely it wasn't healthy to have this much darkness drifting through the air. Letting his eyes shift to their magical sight Harry tried to follow the lines of magic. They all seemed to flow from a single source, but Harry wasn't certain where.

Hearing a noise, Harry looked up his eyes still glazed over by magic. Judging by the soul light emitted, Harry determined two people were approaching. Harry frowned in concentration as he noticed that one of the figures had traces of a blood red magic still coursing through its body. Harry's eyes widened as he recognized the spell at work. He hadn't expected to see an Unforgivable here in Sunnydale. A chill run down his spine. So, there were other magic users here, and not very nice ones at that. He tensed wondering if the increased vampiric and demonic activity might be connected to a wizard's presence in Sunnydale.

Harry's eyes flickered, once again using his normal sight. The people approaching were still too far away to be seen in the darkness, but Harry knew where they were. He moved to the shadows watching for a visual sign of them. Suddenly a figure was highlighted in streetlight for a moment. It was just a brush of light, but the flash of blonde hair being carried in a man's arms made Harry's voice catch in his throat. Buffy.

Breaking into a sprint, Harry rushed toward the pair. His throat clenched as he realized that it had been Buffy's body that still suffered from the effects of the Cruciatus curse. His lips thinned into a tight line. He knew the effects of that curse better than most. She shouldn't have had to feel that...it must have been so terrifying to not even know what it was that caused the pain, not knowing if it would ever end. Bastard. Who had done that to her?

Harry skidded to a stop before Buffy, his hand reached out toward her hair. He felt a slight panic when he realized how unresponsive she was. How long had she been under, had it been too long? Images of the Longbottoms flashed through Harry's mind. Their drawn faces staring blankly. It was almost as if you could see how long they had been held under the Cruciatus curse by the deadness in their eyes. Please don't let that happen to Buffy, Harry prayed to whoever was listening.

As Harry's hand reached out, Angel jerked the slayer back. He held her protectively to his chest. Yet, he relaxed slightly seeing the pained look on the young man's face. He doubted the boy intended Buffy any harm.

"We need to hurry back to Giles's, in my trunk..." the boy's voice rambled nervously. Angel watched curiously as the young man shook his head and mumbled under his breath. "I'm such an idiot," he than suddenly began wriggling his fingers in the air. The vampire's eyes widened as a glass flask appeared in the boy's hand. A blue liquid rolled inside. Using his teeth the boy pulled the cork from the top and moved his hands raising the bottle to Buffy's lips.

"Hey. What are you doing," Angel growled. He pulled Buffy closer to him, she shifted painfully in his arms. Her pretty face drawing into a wince.

"Be careful!" the boy demanded furiously. Angel stared stonily at him, but relaxed his grip still keeping Buffy away from the mysterious young man. His opinion had changed. Earlier he had been positive he could best the scrawny child without effort, but he knew magic when he saw it.

"Who are you?" Angel requested, his voice cold. For the first time, the boy lifted his head and Angel saw a flash of emerald eyes. Angel watched as the stranger's shoulders tensed.

"You're a vampire," he stated, those emerald eyes opening a slightly, seeming to stare right into the vampire. Angel closed his eyes and released a sigh, preparing himself for the unavoidable. The boy would attack him and he'd have to defend himself, all while he tried to tell this do-gooder that he was vampire with a soul, that they were on the same side. It was all very tedious after awhile. He should just print cards. But, while he was without said cards, he'd have to explain. Angel opened his mouth...

"But, you have a soul," the boy said. Angel felt rather gobsmacked and couldn't help but look at the boy in surprise. He flinched away as he meet those vibrant eyes. Again he had the distict impression that those green irises could see right through him. Instead he lowered his head and stared into the boy's shoulder.

Harry stood limply for a moment trying to piece together the scene before him. A vampire with a soul, why did that sound familiar...and he seemed to be very protective of Buffy? Suddenly the pieces began to flow together. What was his name...?

"You're...Angel, right?" Harry asked. Again the vampire could only stand mute while he recovered from this unusual introduction. He'd grown accustomed to people hating or fearing him when they first met. Even Buffy hadn't seemed to really _like _him at their first meeting.

"Uh, yeah..." Angel said. "Who are you?" he questioned a little more forcibly this time. Harry's eyes flicked away from the vampire and focused on Buffy.

"I'm Harry," he stated simply. Angel felt his body unconsciously stiffen, his tongue contracted in his mouth.

So, this was Harry.

He couldn't help the way his lungs, which hadn't breathed in centuries, seemed to contract as if under some great pressure. Angel twitched slightly as he saw Harry rest his fingertips against Buffy's cheek. Harry's soft, alive hands brushed Buffy's pale face cautiously. She stirred in Angel's arms. Her lids fluttered softly and Harry drew a nervous breath.

"Harry?" she mumbled curiously. Her voice still contained the hopeful tone Angel had heard in the graveyard. Angel felt his arms stiffen. The boy next to him didn't seem to notice the tension in the vampire, instead he smiled and let out a breath of relief.

"Hey, Buffy." His words seemed choked as he looked down at the weakened Slayer. "You're okay...here, if you drink this it should help with the pain," Harry urged. Once again he lifted the small vile to the Slayer's lips. Angel didn't jerk her away this time, but he did glare at Harry as the blonde trustingly swallowed the liquid.

Buffy released a breath that she hadn't been aware she was holding. Suddenly the tightness in her muscles had relaxed. However, now that the throbbing pain was gone, her body felt slack. She hung limply. She glanced up slightly and realized exactly whose arms held her. Under ordinary circumstances, she would have been embarrassed at her current situation. There were many reasons why she didn't want to be cradled in anyone's arms, particularly Angel's. But right now she was just so relieved that the pain was gone and that she didn't have to stand alone.

"You're muscles might feel a little loose," Harry explained. Buffy's eyes seemed to blink at him. He could easily read her expression, a mixture of 'no kidding' and 'you tell me this now?'. Harry found it slightly amusing and combining this with his relief that Buffy was whole and sane he couldn't help the small snicker of laughter that issued from his mouth. Angel however did not find this situation funny.

"What was that?" the vampire demanded. Harry's eyes flickered up and met the taller man's gaze firmly.

"It's a potion, a mixture of muscle relaxants and pain relievers. I call it the post-cruciatus cure...although a Potion Master I know has told be many times that there is no 'cure' for the cruciatus cruse," Harry rambled. What could he say, relief made him giddy. Angel however did not seem to be content with an explanation which he couldn't fully understand. He growled at the young man. Harry however didn't seem particularly troubled by the vampire's reaction. Instead he focused on the slayer in Angel's arms. Her eyes had flicked shut.

"She needs sleep more than anything," Harry said to no one in particular. Harry ignored Angel for a moment as he considered his options. Her own bed would be best, but he knew Buffy wouldn't want her mother to see her like this. Nodding his head in decision, he decided the best place would be to take her to Giles. He returned his attention back to Angel.

"Sorry," Harry said only slightly apologetic. "I think Giles's place would be best, I don't think Mrs. Summers needs to worry," Harry stated, his word's answering Angel's confused look. Harry lifted his arms,

"I'll take her, it will be quicker." Harry nodded to the older vampire. Angel however showed no signs of relinquishing the young woman.

"How do you suppose that?" Angel inquired. He looked pointedly at Harry's smaller stature, in his mind also wondering how a human thought he could more faster than a vampire. A small line appeared in Harry's forehead, but he didn't appear otherwise offended by Angel's less than complimentary evaluation. Harry did however give the vampire a raised eyebrow and a somewhat predatory smile.

"Trust me," the younger man said. With a quick motion Harry's arms shot out and gripped Angel's elbows. The vampire moved to pull back from the surprisingly firm grip only to have his vision blur into blackness. The dark only lasted a moment before Angel's vision cleared, finding himself in Rupert Giles's apartment.

To say Angel was surprised would be an understatement. His shoulders bulked nervously at the sudden change in location. And, vampires didn't like to be surprised, especially not vampires who spent their evenings battling the forces of darkness. He quickly calmed himself, but he did know one thing, he certainly wouldn't be trusting the eerie Harry anytime soon.

It had been lucky for Buffy that Harry had been standing so close when they had arrived. Angel's reaction to the unexpected travel had resulted in her being bumped rather violently, and after Harry's potion she wasn't able to easily reposition herself. Harry seemed to realize this, and gently transferred the slayer from Angel's shaky arms to his own steady ones. Buffy found herself relaxing into the wizard's warm embrace. Angel had seemed cold...well vampire duh, Buffy scolded herself. Harry seemed to carry her with ease, he turned his back on the vampire and gently rested Buffy on the couch, propping a pillow behind her head. Buffy couldn't avoid the sigh of relief as her neck rested on the soft pillow. She blinked in surprise when a fluffy white blanket suddenly covered her. It had appeared out of nowhere. She snuggled into it, relishing the warmth that seemed infused into the cloth. Magic, she thought happily.

Buffy seemed to melt into the sofa, she soaked in the comfort. Yet, even as she enjoyed the current peace, the stark contrast only seemed to highlight her previous situation. Her face cringed as she recalled the prior pain. She'd never felt anything like that before. It had been so terrible. Coming from everywhere. She hadn't even been able to distinguish where the pain stopped and where it started.

"Buffy," a voice broke through her thoughts. She flickered her eyes open to see Harry kneeling at her side. Her thoughts must have shown on her face, as Harry's gaze was filled with worry. She tried to smile but had the opinion that it came off rather badly.

"I know it's hard but try not to think about it," Harry urged. "What you felt was call the Cruciatus curse. It's a terrible piece of magic, one of the three Unforgivables. Using it on another person guarantees the caster a life term in Azkaban, a wizarding prison. It's an ugly curse. It affects the nerves of the body, sending pain through everything. The potion I gave you should help with the residual pain, and make your body recover faster." Buffy nodded her head. Somehow Harry seemed to know exactly what she needed to know. Just hearing the information in a sort of clinical context made the mysterious pain easier to deal with.

"I...well, you still might feel a little sore tomorrow, but otherwise you'll be just fine." Harry's words seemed to the reassuring himself as much as her.

"How do you know all this?" Angel inquired. His calm exterior was fully restored and he stood perched behind Harry watching Buffy carefully.

"I learned about it at school," Harry responded cryptically. Angel was about to demand more, when a voice interrupted.

"Harry...back so soon?" a voice said from the upstairs.

"Yeah, hurry down here Uncle Rupert," Harry called. Angel's eyes shifted to Harry at the words 'Uncle Rupert' but he didn't give any other sign of emotion.

Rupert Giles emerged at the foot of the stairs. His eyes flickered behind his spectacles as he spotted Harry knelt beside Buffy with Angel leaning over his shoulder.

"What's going on? What are you doing here?" Giles asked. He stared hard at the vampire, a slight twist if disappointment on his face. Angel remained stonily silent. Yet, it didn't seem as if the Watcher expected a reply. Instead he joined Harry crouched on the floor.

"Buffy?" he asked concern filling his words. The Slayer tipped her head and offered a slight smile to Giles. "What's going on?" Giles repeated.

"Buffy was attacked by a wizard. Held under the Cruciatus curse," Harry stated quickly recapping the last few minutes.

"Cruciatus..." Giles frowned. The name sounded vaguely familiar.

"It's an Unforgivable, a torture curse." Harry's muffled voice supplied the needed information. Giles clenched his jaw and drew closer to the young woman resting on his sofa.

"Buffy are you alright?" Giles questioned. He shook his head realizing how stupid that sounded. Buffy however seemed used to this and merely nodded her head tiredly.

"I gave her a potion that will help with the pain," responded Harry. Giles watched at his nephew reached forward and began rubbing a hand along Buffy's fingers. It was an odd gesture, looking somewhat like a cross between a manicure and holding her hand. Buffy however seemed to relax completely under the touch. She rolled her head back and let her eyes close. Harry looked up and spotted both Giles and Angel sending him curious looks.

"The hands usually feel like the worse effected, almost as if your fingers were being tied into knots. I'm trying to work some of the stiffness out." Harry turned Buffy's hand over and began rubbing her palms. Giles suppressed a hiss when he recognized the crescent shaped gouges on Buffy's palms. She had been clenching her hands so tightly that her nails had drawn blood. Giles once again shot the two men a demanding glance, silently asking what had happened.

"I saw her in the graveyard, she was screaming," Angel's voice was slightly hollow. Giles suppressed the desire to send the vampire a sympathetic glance. He had never doubted Angel's love for Buffy. He had merely disagreed with the appropriateness of that love. And, he had to admit he didn't like the vampire much. Of course, Giles supposed it would be difficult to like a man who, while in his demon form, had enjoyed torturing him.

"There was a man standing over her, I knocked him away and he...disappeared." Angel had previously been doubting the accuracy of that event, but considering his own recent travel it seem much more likely. Harry looked at Angel curiously for a moment before switching to Buffy's other hand. Harry's jaw clenched. He had silently been hoping that Angel had splattered the man across the cemetery. Still, it was curious, why would a wizard capable of an Unforgivable run from a vampire? Harry knew vampires were strong, and against your average witch or wizard they might be a challenge, but for a wizard trained in dark magic there shouldn't be a problem. Of course, Harry didn't know much about the wizarding world in America.

"Any idea who it might be...did you get a good look at him," Harry voice echoed dangerously through the room. Angel continued to stare at the young wizard cautiously.

"Not really, but it might have something to do with why I came here. There are vampires recruiting in Los Angeles, it seems something with a lot of power is bringing them all to Sunnydale. I've heard whispers about reclaiming this city from the Light and returning it to Dark. L.A., is emptying out. Whoever is leading this is must have quite a bit of power to sway so many to his side." Angel paused pensively.

"Could it be a wizard who is leading this?" Giles asked cautiously. Harry sighed and let go of Buffy's hand. The Slayer opened her eyes.

"It's possible." Harry shook his head. "It is curious that they are gathering such large amounts of vampires. Most wizards, particularly the pureblood bunch, see vampires and demons as dark creatures. Most wizards don't even consider them sentient. No offense," Harry shot an apologetic look to Angel, who shrugged his shoulders in acceptance.

"He said he knew you," Buffy's voice rasped, hoarse from screaming.

"What?" Harry asked, his voice growing deep and harsh.

"He said he knew you...he met you, when you were...?" Buffy closed her eyes trying to remember the odd conversation she had experienced before the pain. When had the man said they'd met? She paled slightly as she remembered something else. "You've felt this," she stated. Giles shot his nephew a nervous look, which Harry ignored. Instead, he turned to Buffy and took her hand again.

"Many times," Harry's voice sighed. "You'll be okay," he assured her again.

"He said you did better than I did," Buffy rambled her eyes closing. Harry grew still next to her. That phrase. It sounded so familiar. Harry closed his eyes, grinding his teeth.

"_Better, much better. But Surely you can do much better than this. You're a hero, aren't you Harry?"_

The words came unbidden back into his mind. Of all the deatheaters he'd fought, few possessed the truly sadist urges that one man had. But he was dead, killed in the magical backlash of that night. Still Harry couldn't relax...those words. They were so familiar.

"Buffy," Harry whispered. "Did he say anything else...anything about being a hero perhaps?" Buffy seemed to jerk out of her sleep. Her eye's locked with Harry.

"Yes...he asked if Slayers were heros..." Buffy's words trailed away as Harry jerked to his feet.

Harry hadn't even needed her words. Perhaps his desperation had fueled it, but unbidden his legilimency had awoken, thrusting him into Buffy's mind. And there standing in the shadows, his eyes glittering, was the man Harry had thought to be dead. He had shaved his moustache. Harry could only assume that cad missed twirling it like a cartoon villain. It had been his trademark.

Harry jerked to his feet, his eyes raging with a green fire. He roared into the room, his voice releasing a storm of magic that flung about, shattering all the glass in the house.

He was still Alive.

How had that twisted bastard lived?

Why was he here?

Does this have to do with me?

The questions felt like they had knives and were cutting into his brain.

"Harry?" Giles asked tentatively. Angel had moved to block Buffy. Harry looked around and noticed that the fragments of glass were still floating, as if caught in a maelstrom. Harry sighed and let go of the power, the glass sounding like rain as it dropped to the ground. With a wave of his hand, everything repaired itself. He glared at the ground.

"What is it Harry?" Giles asked.

"His name is Walden Macnair," was all Harry said. Angel, Giles and Buffy still looked at Harry in confusion. The name meant nothing to them...but to Harry, the name Walden Macnair meant many things. Walden Macnair, the Ministry executioner. What a correct position for the man. How appropriate. His cruelty could lure the giants. He was also Voldemort's resident torturer, and he'd spent an hour showing Harry his skill. But all that was nothing. Walden Macnair had murdered Ron Weasley.

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Chapter slightly edited due to a brilliant catch by Nonjon. Thanks are not enough

A/N: Slightly shorter than last...but I wanted to update soon and many of you were wondering how Angel and Harry might react to each other. Expect another short interlude chapter soon.

Thanks to my Reviewers, as ever the more you review the more I write. I'm twisted like that. Smiles.

Cheers.

Della


	12. Memories Made Real

A/N: **Warning**: Some mentions of torture and gore. Nothing explicit...if you can watch Buffy you should be fine.

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Chapter 12: Memories Made Real

-May 29, 1996-

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Drip...Drip... the noise filtered through the cold air. Harry had grown accustomed to the constant sound, he'd heard it every night for the past week. Still, that hardly meant that the noise didn't feel like a drill on his brain. Harry's wrists clinked in their chains. He winced as he felt the metal grow hot burning his flesh. Tonight was the first night he would be hearing the dripping sound in person. It seemed louder somehow.

Harry tried to lean his head back without moving his wrists. His eyes flickered open taking in his current abode and his current situation. He was a prisoner. His clothes grimly with slime and blood. He had been stripped of his Hogwarts robes, his only clothing the thin button-up shirt and black pants he usually wore underneath. He'd always thought robes looked a little silly, maybe being raised in the muggle world would always guide his perceptions. But, hell, he missed those robes now. Anything to keep out the chill of this dark stone. The stone was wet too.

Drip...Drip...Harry let the noise wash over him. He recalled how only a week ago he had first heard the continuous dripping. He heard it in his dreams and it became the background noise of all his nightmares. Except they weren't really nightmares were they? They were real. Although Harry had worked extensively with his occlumency, he'd found that there was no protection for his mind from the link he shared with Voldemort. The only peace occlumency would give him was the peace in knowing that Voldemort couldn't read his thoughts. But, it didn't protect his dreams.

Voldemort, being the bastard he was, had found this immensely funny. He'd taken it upon himself to use these nightly visits to 'instruct' the boy-who-lived on the ways of the world. How amusing that the hero of the Light could find no respite even in his sleep. When Harry ventured into Voldemort's mind, the Dark Lord would use his time to torture innocents. Harry was horrified but couldn't avoid witnessing Voldemort's nightly entertainment. Even sleeping potions seemed to prolong his time in his dreams rather than provide peace.

Of course it was also funny that Harry seemed to experience some of the victims' pain, courtesy of the lighting scar on his forehead.

And, although against his will, Harry did learn from Voldemort's instruction. Voldemort reveled in the fact that Harry Potter, the wizarding world's savior, knew more dark spells than most of his Deatheaters. Not that Harry would admit it. Voldemort knew for a fact that the boy never admitted this knowledge to the great saint Dumbledore or his pathetic Order. The Dark Lord had even watched the boy in battle, always expecting that when enraged the boy would let loose some of the darker spells he had learned. But he had never given in. Still, Voldemort could see it. Burning in his eyes. The boy knew what darkness was, and once you know something you can't undo it. It becomes a part of you.

But he had been breaking the boy. Ever so slowly...in reality much slower that the Dark Lord would like to admit. Their battle on the Hogwarts grounds had been a victory even if Voldemort hadn't managed to breach the castle's protections. Harry and his young friend had stormed onto the field of battle using spells with vicious abandon. They were still not the spells that Voldemort had shown the boy, but they were what Voldemort considered gray spells, no doubt acquired from some book in the restricted section. Voldemort himself had examined those tomes in his youth, only to find himself disappointed in what Hogwarts's considered forbidden knowledge. It seemed that a school could not house tomes of true darkness. Or perhaps he simply wasn't patient enough to worm his way through the disorganized stacks. Apparently the obsessive vulture of a librarian didn't prioritize keeping the restricted section tidy.

Thus, he found Harry's foray into the restricted section as a start, and a nudge into the correct way of thinking...and even light magic could be terrible when used without mercy. Voldemort had killed the mudblood in attempt to push the boy even farther. It was after all the only purpose she could serve.

To be honest Voldemort wasn't even certain why he was pushing the boy-who-lived along this path. It didn't make much sense...why create a more dangerous opponent? Perhaps he suspected that Harry could never truly achieve or match his level of darkness. Maybe he feared that Dumbledore's mutterings could be true. Could Light be stronger than Darkness? It seemed improbable, but was it worth the risk? It would no doubt be better to battle Harry on his own terms, he could undoubtably best another Dark wizard, he knew what to expect. With Light there was uncertainty. And although these were terribly good reasons to corrupt the boy, it all came down to one fact. He could. He would corrupt the boy because he could, and he would enjoy doing it. Everyone has to have their hobbies.

But, while the Dark Lord had been 'instructing,' his pupil had been busy learning other things. For instance Harry, once grown accustomed to his nightly torture, used the time to examine the Dark Lord's surrounding. Looking for clues, hints as to his plans, locations, and any possible followers. And Harry's occlumency was advanced just enough for Voldemort to be unaware of his student's diverted attention. For the most part Harry's information was useless. Voldemort was careful to move around a great deal, and often chose bare rooms with no trace of parchment or even windows. The only followers allowed were those whom Harry was already familiar with. What did it matter to Harry if he merely saw more proof that Lucius Malfoy was a deatheater?

But there were rare moments when Harry caught the Dark Lord unaware, and in that second before Voldemort noticed him, he could sometimes garner some facts. He'd managed to prevent an attack on the Shaklebolt residence. He'd been able to see a mountain out of a window once which had led to the Order attacking one of Voldemort's hideouts, sadly it had already been abandoned by the Dark Lord but three deatheaters were captured. These small moments of accomplishment and triumph allowed Harry to endure his nightly ordeals. His eyes were always on the lookout for clues, it kept him busy and helped him to avoid being an attentive student.

Drip...Drip...Harry's wrists flared in pain as he once again tried to shift his body to a more comfortable position. His focus on finding clues had led Harry to his current situation. But, although he was cold and in pain he couldn't feel sorry for himself. After all, it had been his glorious plan that had landed him here.

Harry would be the first to admit that after Hermione's death he had shut down. After Ron he had managed to carry on, trying to support his remaining friend in her grief...but once Hermione was gone, what was the point? He stopped going to classes. He stopped eating in the Great Hall. His remaining classmates tried to comfort him but he shied from them as if their words were acid. He hardly even slept in the dorm. Instead, he locked himself away in the Room of Requirement, and he trained. For there was at least one point. Only one point left. As much as the phrase bothered him, he was the 'Chosen One'. The only person in the world who could possibly end Voldemort's tyranny. And he wanted to end it soon, he wanted to end it now before he had to bury anyone else. Either that, or die trying. He wasn't afraid of death anymore. When he was eleven he remembered how his own fear had slipped into his words when he learned that the Flamels would die. Dumbledore had comforted him, saying his wise words "To the well organized mind, death is but the next great adventure." Harry, at the time, had thought that was shite. No one wanted to die. But now...he understood. He was so tired...maybe only death could rest him. And a man who isn't afraid of death can be a terrible force.

And, a week ago Voldemort had moved to another location. That was when the dripping started, water leaking down stone walls. Harry had stared at those walls, that solid stone, and wondered why this place felt familiar. There was something about it that hung in the back of his brain...like a forgotten memory. He'd never felt this familiarity before...it had even taken Dumbledore to recognize the mountain from his other dream. Having never traveled Harry couldn't tell one mountain from another. So why this place, this creepy damp place? And while Harry tried to remember, he battled the Dark Lord's growing anticipation. Something was going to happen, something bad.

Then during one of the Dark Lords more extensive monologues, which Harry tuned out as usual, it came to him. He knew this stone. He knew the slime that coated those walls. It had been years ago, and he'd been terrified at the time...but he knew where he was. Voldemort hadn't needed to overpower the Hogwart's wards, as usual he'd slipped in the back door. The Dark Lord had returned to the Chamber of Secrets. Harry ruthlessly suppressed his emotions, avoiding the stir of triumph that stirred inside him. But that morning when he awoke, it wasn't with a scream but with a jubilant laugh. He had the means to get to Voldemort, and the hypocritical psycho wouldn't even expect it. He'd end things before anyone else got hurt. And at least it'd be over, one way or another.

And here he was. His wrists chained to the wall a small pinprick of light shining down. Harry's face lifted toward the light, he couldn't help but wonder where it came from, the chamber was located miles beneath the school. He banged his head against the wall remembering how easily he'd been captured. He'd expected to get a little further at least. Voldemort hadn't entered the chamber through Myrtle's bathroom, but it wouldn't surprise Harry if Slytherin had created a secret entrance into the school. Harry had never explored the Chamber, he'd been too worried about saving Ginny and fending of the basilisk to really take the time to explore. Later, after he'd been healed by Fawkes, brought back an inch from death, he definitely hadn't wanted to spend anymore time there.

Well, he'd be seeing the Chamber now. Harry groaned and looked at the stone walls. He banged his head again. He'd barely entered the main chamber before a loud hissing had caught his attention. Harry had frozen and closed his eyes, but it wasn't a basilisk this time. Instead a large anaconda had wrapped itself around Harry.

'Intrudersssss,' the voice had hissed. Harry struggled against the giant snake, but the thick coils of muscle felt like steel. The large serpent's mouth latched onto Harry's wrist, squeezing his wrist tightly until the wand in his hand clattered to the ground. Another coil wrapped itself around Harry's throat.

'Releasse Me' Harry managed to hiss in reply. But the snake made no move to follow. Instead it merely tightened it's grip until Harry was mostly hidden inside the snake's coils. His voice was silenced. Harry gasped for the air, his chest being crushed under the pressure. Darkness began to choke Harry's vision. He struggled to stay awake. Unconsciousness made him powerless. Still it was a losing battle, Harry's vision was almost black before he heard a voice hiss in Parseltongue.

'Let him go-ss,' Harry was dropped roughly to the floor. Even as he gasped for air, his hand frantically searched the ground for a sign of his wand.

"Now now, Mr. Potter, you didn't think I'd make the same mistake twice. You will not be given back your wand this time." The dark Lord laughed as he looked down at Harry. Harry looked up, Voldemort stood surrounded by his deatheaters. One of the robed figures held Harry's wand mockingly. Harry glared into those red eyes. He opened his mouth, a fiery retort of the edge of his lips.

"Ckk...cough chk," Harry voice cracked and rasped. He lifted his hand to his throat. What had that snake done to him? Voldemort began laughing in the background as Harry tried to clear his throat. He hoped that whatever damage was only temporary.

"Hmm, it seems that our guest is feeling under the weather, let it never be said that I didn't offer my hospitality. Take him to a cell, I want to hear him begging for death before I kill him."

Harry listened to the cackling laugh as he was led from the room. Harry gave no protest. Instead he rubbed his throat carefully, willing his vocal cords to repair themselves. He didn't fear Voldemort. Whether that was bravery or insanity was anyone's guess. In the long run, Harry supposed those qualities were often the same.

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Present

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"Harry?" a questioning voice broke through his remembrance. Harry tilted his head up and caught the gaze of his Uncle.

"Yes, Uncle Rupert?" Harry replied in the same tone.

"Are you alright? You seemed away for a moment." Giles took a seat next to his nephew. Buffy was sleeping on the couch and Harry had moved to the kitchen table.

"Just remembering," Harry said softly. Giles let his gaze rest on the young man next to him.

"Remembering what? That man Macnair?" Giles's words were laced with caution. He didn't want to make Harry feel like this was an interrogation, but in all honesty he needed to know what to expect. He needed to know as a Watcher, but perhaps more importantly he needed to know for himself. Whatever was happening seemed to pose a serious danger to those he cared about.

"Yeah...well not him exactly just another madman from my past." Harry spoke his words with an embarrassed tone.

"A lot of them are there?" Giles asked, trying to infuse a bit of humor into the situation. Harry smiled crookedly.

"More than I'd like," he said. Giles smiled in an attempt to continue the joke, but he couldn't ignore the underlying weariness in Harry's tone.

"Harry," Giles didn't know quite what to say, instead he rested his hand on Harry's forearm in an attempt at comfort. Harry took a deep breath at the contact, and Giles considered moving away but watched in surprise as Harry's posture seemed to relax. Giles rubbed the young man's arm gently.

"It's just...upsetting knowing he's alive," Harry admitted.

"What did he do?" Giles questioned. Harry leaned back in his chair, his eyes focusing on the wall.

"Macnair was one of Voldemort's inner circle." Giles tensed slightly at the name Voldemort, he had killed Lily. Giles leaned in as Harry continued speaking. "Cruelest bastard of the lot truth be told. See, Voldemort's main belief was that Purebloods, people with all magic parents, were better than people who were born from muggles. Muggles, he thought, should cower before wizards. Rather hypocritical considering his own father was a muggle. But, that doesn't really matter because not many people know that. He made up a phony title, introducing himself as Lord Voldemort. And his ideas were very popular with some. See, the wizarding world has used this pureblood bullshit for years to make themselves feel more important. I can't help but feel a little bad for some of the people that joined him, not enough to think twice about cursing them but...These people had that rhetoric pounded into their heads since they were in the cradle. I mean, how much of it is their fault that they believe it? So, quite a few people joined him the first time thinking they were joining some political group, they had no idea how dark Voldemort went, how far he intended to go. But Macnair...he didn't join because of some dogma. He once...well, he kind of told me he even knew that purebloods were no better than muggleborns. He hated muggles enough, but he didn't really care what kind of blood you had if you were magical. He joined because he wanted to inflict pain. He joined because Voldemort would provide him all the victims he could dream of. Voldemort promised his other followers greatness, power, wealth...but for Macnair he promised him only a steady supply of fresh meat." Harry paused remembering Voldemort's words in the Little Hanging graveyard.

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"_Macnair...destroying dangerous beasts for the Ministry of Magic now, Wormtail tells me? You shall have better victims than that soon, Macnair. Lord Voldemort will provide..."_

"_Thank you Master...thank you,"_

_-_

Giles didn't react much. He was used to dealing with creatures to whom malevolence was second nature. Vampires and Demons often killed with thought or even purpose. But he had to admit it was curious that a human could sink so low, to the point where the desire to inflict pain was the only desire. True sadists are hard to find, although perhaps not as hard as Giles would hope.

"He...ugh, he also killed a good friend of mine...my best friend." Harry seemed to choke these words. Giles turned his head and gazed at the distressed young man. Their were no tears in those emerald eyes, just an emptiness. One that Giles recognized.

"Harry, I know that must have been hard. I've lost people too," Giles confessed. But Harry didn't need to hear the words. Harry could paretically taste the emotional pain clinging to his Uncle.

"I know it gets better," Harry stated. "It will get better when I kil-... get the bastard. Sometimes that is the only thing that makes..." Harry cringed and rolled his eyes, "_grief_ bearable." Giles watched as Harry's eyes flickered up, as if waiting for Giles to denounce him.

"You're right," said Giles firmly. Harry glanced at his Uncle cautiously but didn't decide to argue about it. Giles lifted his hand and removed his spectacles, cleaning them with a handkerchief.

"Harry, I have to ask..." Giles sighed. Why was this still difficult? "But, your magic...is it..._normal _for it to react like that?" Harry stilled.

"Normal...in what sense?" Harry's voice was casual as he spoke and Giles let himself relax slightly. But, inside Harry was hardly composed. He didn't want to discuss his magic. He hadn't wanted to discuss it with Dumbledore, and he didn't want the conversation now either, but he could understand his Uncle's concern.

"I, well from what I know wizards aren't prone to accidental magic so late in life...what was that?" Giles waved his hand through the air indicating the powerful blast of magic that had echoed through the room.

"Oh that...it's not really normal. I mean it is for me, I'm still learning to control it."

"But...what about Hogwarts?" Giles asked confused. He vividly remembered when a professor had spoken to his mother about Lily's magic. She needed training and Hogwarts could provide it...so why had it failed Harry?

"They can't help me with this. I have to figure it out myself," Harry stated. Giles noticed that the young man seemed to be repeating a phrase from an old argument. Giles merely nodded, not wanting to push the fragile relationship he had created. Harry noticed his Uncle's retreat and sighed.

"I'm sorry Uncle Giles. It's just a sore point with me. This is new...and even though I was told I had to create a balance on my own...well some people thought they should 'monitor' me...like I was some sort of lab rat." Harry shook his head. Giles frowned.

"New?" His forehead crinkled in thought. That didn't make any sense, his understanding of magic was that wizards were born with an allotted amount of power, they usually reached it around the age of thirteen. It wouldn't make sense for a seventeen year-old to receive a burst of power.

"Ugh...it's kinda complicated...let's just leave it at that." Harry's words were filled with hope, but he doubted his uncle would leave the matter alone.

"Harry..." said Giles. 'Here we go,' thought Harry with a groan. "I know there are things in your past that you don't want to talk about, and I won't make you...but I am here if you need it. I know I haven't been much good to you, but we are family, and whatever you need alright?"

"I...thanks Uncle Rupert," whispered Harry, his voice slightly confused but also happy. The older man nodded his head.

"Now...hmm, back to this Macnair fellow...anything else I should know.

_-_

"Come with me Mr. Potter."

The clinking of chains. Steps on a stone floor.

"Has your voice returned Mr. Potter?"

Silence.

"Well, come along. My Master is waiting."

Footsteps. Voices echo in the distance.

"Did you know I admire you Mr. Potter? Really, you are quite an impressive young man."

Silence.

Door swings open. Steps. Door swings shut.

"Ah I see you are wondering why we are here alone. You were expecting me to take you directly to the Dark Lord.  
No Mr. Potter, not yet. The Dark Lord has blessed me. For all my years of loyal service he has given me what I most want.  
I do hope your voice has returned Mr. Potter."

Drip...Dripp.

"I see you know this room. Please have a seat. Sit Mr. Potter."

Swish of a wand. Thump.

"There we are, that is much better, isn't it Mr. Potter."

Click

"Those chains aren't too loose, are they? If they are too loose, you might move around too much and damage yourself.  
We wouldn't want that."

Silence.

"Do you know why the Cruciatus Curse is so popular Mr. Potter?"

Silence. Drip.

"You see my colleagues are lazy. True torture takes careful preparation and the right equipment. Muggles for all their foolery  
have created several interesting tools to overcome their magical handicap. Muggles really aren't bad. Just as cows aren't bad.  
Kept under the right environment a cow can prosper and serve a purpose...I see you are admiring my hacksaw. Admiration is  
never wrong...but we were having a discussion. Please pay attention Mr. Potter."

Ting. Metal hitting metal.

"Yes, muggles have their uses. But in the end they are disappointing. Can a man truly enjoy butchering a cow...it is tedious work  
I assure you. Are you familiar with the story of Jack-the-Ripper Mr Potter?"

Metal touches flesh. Throat hisses.

"They say he might have been a butcher...that is how he knew how to cut just where."

Wet grating sound. Deep labored breathing.

"How tedious his days must have seemed to him, cutting cow flesh when what he really wanted was the soft milky white of a woman's skin."

Grunt.

"Did that hurt Mr. Potter? As I say, you are quite impressive. Still you remain silent. How wonderful. Do you recall that night in the  
graveyard? Of course you do, who could forget such a historic moment, the dawning of a new age. You screamed so beautifully  
for the Dark Lord."

Whimper.

"No, not nearly good enough. Maybe this will work better. The fingertips are very sensitive."

Crack. Rapid breathing.

"Hmm, interesting. You are curiously strong to muggle methods. Any other wizard would be screaming by now. Perhaps it is  
becauseyou know what these are...hmm. Wouldn't that be interesting, just as muggles panic in the face of magic, wizards fear  
these unknow instruments?Is it the unknown that strikes the most fear. That would mean muggleborns, or half bloods raised by muggles,  
like yourself and my Master, are themost superior of us all."

Pause.

You are shocked I see. Yes I know my Master's blood line. It isn't difficult for a pureblood to trace the lines, it is what we are trained  
to do since infancy after all. No it isn't difficult to trace, if you dare to know the truth. You see Mr. Potter, pain in a great equalizer.  
I have seen purebloods cower under the Cruciatus curse the same way muggleborns do. Their blood doesn't protect them from the pain.  
Thus, I have no reason to think less of my Master for his blood, or you for yours."

Silence.

"Caedes concoquo"

Chains rattle. Wood chair shakes. Wood on stone.

Screams.

Screams.

Screams.

"To soon Mr...do you mind if I call you Harry. I feel so close to you now. Dark magic seems to work well with you. Let's try a little  
harder this time Harry. Shall we?"

"Caro perfigo"

Chains rattle. Dripp...drip. Teeth grind.

Pause.

Muffle.

Shout.

Scream.

"Better, much better. But Surely you can do much better than this. You're a hero, aren't you Harry? I do love Heros."

"BASTARD, you sadistic- why are you even with him if you Don't EVEN CARE About BLOOD!"

"Ah I see you've gotten your voice back. Although Harry, your mother would wash your mouth out if she heard you...how silly  
of me. Forgive my faux pas, it was in bad taste.

"YOU-"

" adflictatio"

Grunt. Chains rattle.

"That's good Harry. Hold it. Hold it in."

Tapping. Wand weaves through the air. Humming, a classical melody.

"Now...release it now. You can't hold it much longer."

"Macnair!"

Chains cease to rattle. Silence.

"Oh, hello Lucius."

"The dark Lord wants him now...is he still alive...he looks dead."

"He's fine. I know my job."

Finger brushes against a cheek.

"I so wanted to hear that scream Harry. I could feel it in your chest, in your throat...it would have been glorious...my best yet."

Cough.

"Yes, Lucius."

"Why must you insist on using these low muggle tools? Is that where the blood came from?"

"You want to see, don't you Lucius."

Cough.

"Come here than. His left forearm. I thought it symbolic...he could have worn our mark...now he has a special mark all his own."

"Merlin, did you have to cut to the bone..."

"He didn't complain."

"If you've killed him, I won't take the blame for it."

"I wouldn't expect you to Lucius. Come Harry, you have an audience with a Dark Lord. I'm sorry our time was cut short."

Click.

"Can he stand?"

"I'm sure he can. You don't want to be carried to your death, now do you Harry?"

Step.

Step.

Door shut.

Step.

"Someday I'm going to walk in there and you'll have gotten carried away and dismembered one of our Master's captives.  
Then you can taste the Dark Lord's type of pain. I hope he kills you."

"You're only bitter because you couldn't watch."

Cough.

"You don't suppose our Master would let me dismember him, send him back to Dumbledore in pieces?"

"You are so crude."

-

Did Giles need to know anything else?

"No," stated Harry. "Just that he's very dangerous."

-

Angel stared into the night sky. Buffy had fallen asleep inside, and he hadn't felt particularly comfortable in Giles's home. Particularly with that strange Harry staring of into space, his face as grim and stiff as a mask. Angel glared into the night as he thought about the young man inside. Angel wasn't an expert with magic, basically he knew enough to get him by. In over one hundred years as a vampire you'd have to learn something, right? And, he had heard mention of wand wielders, although vampires generally stayed away from them. Regular humans were much easier prey. But, Angel did know what magic tasted like. And, there was something...off, as Buffy might say, about Harry's magic. There was a dark element to it. It was powerful, confusing, and absolute. Angel had the distinct feeling that Harry was more powerful than anyone should be.

It made him uneasy that Buffy had so quickly formed a friendship to the young wizard. When he had left Sunnydale two months ago he had done it with the best and noblest intentions at heart. But, that didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell. (And Angel was one of the few people who actually knew what hell felt like.) He woke up everyday and convinced himself that he had done the right thing. There had been a few moments when he had considered coming back, and he might have if he hadn't found his calling as a champion in L.A. The people there needed help. Knowing that he was saving those who might not otherwise be saved made the nights pass quicker.

Angel shook his head. He had done the right thing. There was no doubting that. But, when he came to warn Buffy, he hadn't expected to find what he had found. Who was this Harry fellow anyway? He couldn't help grinding his teeth as he recalled her hopeful voice when saying his name. This wasn't what he wanted. He recalled his words when he had 'broken up' with Buffy.

"_You deserve more. You deserve something outside of demons and darkness. You should be with someone who can take you into the light. Someone who can make love to you."_

Well, she deserved more than this Harry fellow too. What was it with Buffy that she kept attracting dark men? He hadn't wanted to leave and have some other unworthy take his place.

"Well if it isn't the brooding de-fanged vampire, who was supposed to have left town, doing his usual gloomy stare." Angel's head shot up to see Xander glaring at him from the sidewalk.

"What are you doing here?" inquired Angel grumpily.

"Shouldn't that be my line...eh, you ain't evil again are you?" Xander's voice took on a nervous edge and he reached into his pocket for a stake.

"No I'm not evil," sighed Angel. Xander raised an eyebrow.

"Maybe that's just what you want me to think," he speculated not releasing the stake.

"Look I came to help Buffy," sated Angel.

"I thought you could best help her by staying away," argued Xander. Angel didn't argue. Xander shrugged his shoulders and put the stake away. "I came to help her patrol is she here?" he inquired.

"She's sleeping," Angel didn't elaborate.

"Sleeping? Here?" Xander examined the house making sure he was at Giles's house...yep...why would Buffy be sleeping here?

"She was hurt by some magic," explained Angel.

"WHAT!" yelled Xander. He made a move to rush into the house but was stopped by a hand grabbing his shirt.

"She's sleeping," repeated Angel.

"I don't care, I've got to see her...is it bad?" A nervous frown crossed Xander's face. If she was hurt badly they'd have taken her to the hospital right...unless it was magical stuff medical people couldn't fix? Xander bit his cheek.

"She's fine, _Harry_" Angel said his name with a hiss, "already gave her something, she just needs rest."

"Harry...oh, guess it was a good thing he was here than." Xander relaxed a bit.

"Yeah...right." Angel words were short. Xander gave the vampire a curious look, then he smiled in triumph.

"Why do I get the feeling that you don't like Giles's nephew," questioned Xander, a slight smile on his face.

"I just don't know if I trust him," argued Angel. He sincerely tried to take any hint of anger out of his voice. "How much do you know about him," questioned Angel.

"Not much, He's Giles's nephew, got great skills with the whole magic thing, Buffy seems to like him," Angel cringed and Xander smiled. " And, considering you don't seem to get along with him, I like him more already." Xander smiled again while Angel sent the young man a cold look.

"Well, I'm going in to chat with Harry. Gee I really like that kid," Xander grinned. With a few steps he had opened the door. Angel remained on the stoop glaring into the night.

-

-

A/N: Later update can be blamed on school starting again. Afraid that comes first. Hope you lot enjoyed this, and got to learn more about what happened to Harry. Hope you found that interesting. I chose to write Harry's torture scene the way I did, because I felt that Harry would try to distance himself from the event. Act like it happened to someone else, even in his memories.

Next update should have less memories and more present time.

Let me know if Giles and Harry's talk worked for you. Also what did you all think about Angel's introspection?


	13. A Moment of Peace

Chapter Thirteen: A Moment of Peace

-

-

Buffy stirred. She felt very comfortable. Yet, she wasn't sleeping in her bed, the pillow didn't smell like her strawberry shampoo. Where was she? Opening her eyes, Buffy found herself at Giles's apartment, she was bundled on the couch wrapped in a fluffy white blanket. Suddenly, the memory of last night came back and Buffy realized why she was here. She couldn't help but frown realizing how helpless she had been. Buffy wasn't a damsel in distress type of person. It didn't suit her. She flushed in embarrassment remembering how Angel had carried her from the graveyard.

Shit!

Angel was here. Why was he here? She supposed she hadn't gotten the chance to ask that question. She sighed into the blanket pulling it over her head. Why did she get the feeling that his presence would make this all the more difficult. It was too much to hope that he had changed his mind about their relationship. Yet, as she stared at the white expanse of blanket over her head, Buffy couldn't help but wonder if she wanted him to change his mind. A week ago she'd been desperate for him to come back. But she'd meant what she'd said to Harry. She really was moving on...as impossible as it might seem.

"Hey Buffster, planning on playing peek-a-boo all day?" enquired a voice. Buffy shook her head, only one person could tease her like that.

"Morning Xander," she said warmly lowering the blanket.

"You okay," he asked kindly. She lifted her arms up and stretched. No soreness, not even any stiffness.

"Yep, least I think so. Probably need doctor Harry to give me the okay though...not sure what he gave me last night but it sure made me loose." Xander raised his eyebrows suggestively at her comment. "Not that kind of loose, you perv, I felt like jello." Xander nodded.

"That's all I was thinking. Gez Buff get your mind out of the gutter."

"Where is that wizard of mine," Buffy enquired as he pulled her legs off the couch.

"Making breakfast, he said you'd be hungry." Xander tilted his head toward the kitchen. "Of course I might have mentioned something about needing to eat too...but hey, a guys got to eat."

"You two seem to be getting along better," Buffy commented, "No more accosting the kid for looking at me?"

"Hey, he was staring at your house...I really like that house no one leers at her but me," joked Xander lightening the mood.

"Uh huh," Buffy agreed with a smile.

"In all honestly I can't help but like a guy who pisses Angel off." Buffy frowned.

"Angel doesn't like Harry?" she questioned Xander.

"Not if the brooding glare was any indication...of course his face might have gotten stuck that way," said Xander pensively, there was no joking in his tone. Buffy rolled her eyes, Xander's attitude was nothing new.

"He probably just doesn't know him well yet, he's always been a little..."

"Grumpy?" suggested Xander. Buffy frowned.

"I was going to say cautious," argued Buffy.

"No fault there," a new voice interrupted. Buffy looked up to see a smiling Harry framed in the doorway, a plate in his hand. He walked into the living room. Xander licked his lips and held out his hand expectantly. Harry ignored him and joined Buffy on the couch, offering her the plate. Buffy nodded and smiled slightly noticing Xander's crushed face.

"So, whose cautious?" inquired Harry.

"Angel," informed Buffy. Xander rolled his eyes. "If he seemed a little...well, unhappy to meet you don't worry he's just a little...umm-"

"I believe the word you used was cautious," offered Xander helpfully.

"Yeah," agreed Buffy. Harry's brow wrinkled.

"He seemed perfectly polite to me," commented Harry thoughtfully. Xander groaned.

"Hey, don't think of taking his side, it's up to us guys with pulses to insult him from time to time, can't have him getting a big head," Xander said rationalizing his beliefs. Harry merely rolled his eyes and Buffy took a bite of the eggs Harry had made.

"Don't I get any eggs?" asked Xander. Harry shrugged and a pair of plates floated in from the kitchen. Harry took one plate and Xander looked at his speculatively.

"Is it...safe to eat?" the older boy questioned. But, before Harry could answer Xander shrugged and took the plate from the air. He took a large bite and Harry decided not to answer Xander's question. His answer obviously didn't matter. Although the young wizard couldn't help imagining what the American young man would do if Harry had told him eating too much could turn him into a newt. His Uncle most likely would prefer not to have eggs in his carpet.

"So, are you feeling better, Buffy?" questioned Harry.

"Mhph," the slayer responded with her mouth full. Swallow. "Yeah all better, no aches and pains."

"Really?" replied a surprised Harry.

"Yep," Buffy nodded. Seeing the wizard's confusion she added, "Super Slayer healing." Harry nodded.

"I'd forgotten about that. Must really be useful."

"Yeah...but Harry that magic the cactus curse or whatever...I still don't understand. I need to understand...how can I fight it?" Buffy's voice radiated determination and desperation. Harry looked down at his plate.

"Well, there really is only one way to fight it...not be hit by it," informed Harry.

"But how? I couldn't even see it coming...it's not like it's a knife or anything," stated Buffy.

"Well, it actually can be seen, but it takes practice. Some spells are very visual. Uh...oh, like this." Harry raised his wand, "_Stupefy_." Buffy watched as a red light shot from Harry's wand and passed through a chair causing no damage.

"What would that do?" she questioned.

"It stuns someone, knocks them unconscious. As you can see, it is visible as a red light. But there are many spells that you can't see...well unless you have a magic sight and only a few wizards are powerful enough to have that...but umm, like this." Swish and flick, "_Wingardium Leviosa_" commanded Harry raising a pillow in the air. "You didn't see any beam of light hitting the pillow and making it fly...it just does."

"Well how can I duck something I can't see?" Buffy shook her head in frustration. She clenched her jaw, she had no intention of being helpless again, not like that.

"How did you see me when I was invisible?" questioned Harry.

"I didn't," stated Buffy. She glared.

"Then how did you manage to break one of my ribs, that was a pretty accurate punch," commented Harry.

"Look, I heard you," declared Buffy.

"Exactly, there are other sense. You might not be able to see a spell, but it still moves. And spells tend to move in straight lines. Most don't curve, so if you know where a wand is pointing you know where a spell is going. If you sense a spell moving in one direction get out of the way, it won't move. Does that make sense?" questioned Harry. Buffy paused and nodded her head slowly.

"Kinda like dodging bullets?" inquired Buffy.

"Sort of, except spells don't usually travel as fast as bullets. Easier to dodge." Buffy smiled.

"So I can fight this," stated Buffy. Harry nodded. The tension in his chest lightened as he saw the light in Buffy's eyes. She was herself again.

"You'll help me train for this right?" asked Buffy.

"Uh sure," agreed Harry.

"Hey we'll come too. I think all the scoobies should learn how to avoid this magic stuff, might come in handy...especially if this wizard dude is the new big bad in town." Xander nodded his head.

"I don't want any of you to have to deal with him. I'll do it," growled Harry. Xander looked up and for a minute felt a sliver of fear as he gazed at the younger man...who suddenly looked much older. Buffy however showed no hesitation and reached out a hand to gently grasp Harry's arm.

"Harry, you'll need some help, back-up," she commented softly. Harry shook his head.

"I don't think you should be there. You might get hurt...I couldn't bare that...this is my mess." Harry met Buffy's eyes. Xander squirmed uncomfortably, he had a feeling he was missing something here.

"Look Harry, this guy came to Sunnydale. It's my town. I can't sit back and do nothing. This is my mess just as much as it is yours," asserted Buffy. Harry sighed, he lifted his weary eyes so that they met her's.

"Buffy, you can understand better than most...but even you can't fully grasp what this might mean. There is a curse in the wizarding world...Avada Kedavra, it's called the killing curse. Get hit with it and you're dead...there is no coming back. Could you really stand there and watch Willow or Xander die?" Harry shook his head as both Buffy and Xander paled. "One hit, that's all it takes and they're gone. It isn't like vampires or demons. It isn't a fight where they stand a chance..." Harry's voice trailed off.

"Sometimes you have to stand up, even if there isn't a chance. Sometimes you just have to be there for your friends even if that is all you can do." Harry looked up. Xander stared steadily at the young man. Harry hadn't expected Xander to speak. He had practically called the other young man useless. Yet as he met Xander's gaze there was so much intensity in that stare. Harry thought for a moment he was staring into his own best friend's eyes, and Ron was telling him where to get off. Harry couldn't help but look away.

"We'll be there for you," another voice added. Harry's gaze met the firm resolve of his Uncle. Harry closed his eyes and nodded solemnly.

"Just promise me you won't die for me," pleaded Harry softly. Without waiting for an answer Harry rose to his feet. "If you call Oz and Willow make sure they know...they need to know how bad this can be. But, if they want, we begin training outside at noon." Harry gave those gathered a curt nod before exiting.

-

Buffy chose to run home and change and tell her mother that she was alright. Xander stayed with Giles, eating some more breakfast and later gave Willow a call. As Harry had asked, he passed along how dangerous this new dude was. Willow reacted as she'd reacted to the news of vampires, a little fearful perhaps but there was no doubt that she'd be at Giles's at noon. This was who they were. They'd stand beside Buffy until the bitter end. Although neither had made a bid deal about it, both had known that after graduation was their chance to escape. Willow had every opportunity to go to some snobby upper-crust school and Xander didn't have anything holding him in Sunnyhell. Well, nothing except for Buffy. They both knew how dangerous this life was, and both had chosen it regardless.

Leaning back Xander thought about what Harry had said earlier. One curse... It was scary that someone could snuff it like that. And Harry himself, he had looked so haunted. It was strange to see that look on someone so young. But, as Xander thought about it the only time he'd seen a similar look was on someone equally as young. Buffy. After that whole deal with the evil Angel, she'd taken off to L.A. and even when she'd returned Xander had seen traces of that look. He wondered if this was Harry's L.A. Had he come here to escape something? Were his friends missing him as much as he and Willow had missed Buffy? Xander looked up and noticed Giles reading a newspaper as he ate his breakfast. He hadn't seen the Watcher so relaxed in a long time. He seemed to be enjoying his nephew's visit. Xander frowned slightly in thought. Giles was such an adult Xander had never thought about him needing family connections. He was just Giles. But, for the first time, Xander started worrying about the Watcher's happiness. What would Giles do when Harry had to go home?

"Hey Xan," Buffy's warm voice greeted.

"Hey Buffster, you got back fast." Xander tilted his head and smiled at Buffy.

"Yeah well Slayer's are tough. I jogged there and back. Umm...Xander do you know where Angel is?" Xander sighed. He didn't bother arguing that Buffy could do better than the vampire. It was an old argument, they just would never agree.

"He took off around dawn, I think, it got a little sunny."

"Oh," Buffy said. She pursed her lips. "Willow coming?" she inquired, changing the subject.

"Yeah, was there any doubt. She said she'd call Oz too. Harry sure is a little worrier huh. A serious kind of guy." Xander shook his head slightly. Buffy however bit her lip.

"Well, he's been through a lot," Buffy appeased.

"And we haven't?" Xander asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah well...we've been lucky too...I guess, back in England, Harry's best friends died in some war they had there. But don't bring it up with him okay," Buffy urged with a soft voice. Xander nodded. He looked away from Buffy. He frowned.

"That kinda explains a lot," stated Xander.

-

-

Harry sat out in the back yard. He wasn't frowning exactly, but he wasn't looking very approachable either. He didn't like the idea of involving Xander, Willow and Oz in this. He didn't like including Buffy, but had to admit he was 'on her turf'. Yet, he had included them so easily. It would be much better to handle Macnair alone. No risk of anyone getting hurt. In the end, Harry had to admit that he had allowed their presence out of selfish desires. Harry didn't want to think about how far he might go if there were no witnesses.

-

-

Walden Macnair jerked awake. He'd been having a wonderful dream. As the golden light filtered before his eyes he let the memories of last night flow over him. Her scream had been like honey. A shame it was interrupted by that rude fellow. But, he had done his bit anyhow. The human mind could only take so much pain before stumbling into madness. He could have drunk in that honey all night. But sadly he needed her sane. He had very nearly killed that rude vampire, for merely interrupting and taking a few precious seconds. But, he had recognized the thing. The other vampires had spoken of him, a rogue vampire with a soul. Another witness might be good. Yes, he wanted Harry to see the whole thing. He wanted the boy to slip into their minds and fume at his presence. Harry, ah_ Harry_. The boy had screamed so well in the graveyard for the Dark Lord. But he had denied him. The boy had denied him that perfect scream.

Perhaps that was how it should be.

He wondered if Harry was tracking him yet. Was he trying to find him? Or was he too busy tending to the pathetics around him. Muggles. They would hold him back wouldn't they. But time was good, he needed time.

"Carsten, we're moving," he hissed to the vampire.

"Moving mein Herr? But it is day?" the vampire stated in fear.

"I know it is day Carsten, but there are underground tunnels are their not?" the vampire nodded. "Good."

"Vill I gather the others?" Carsten asked.

"Yes...Most. Leave the loud ones here," advised Macnair.

"Ja Mein Herr," the vampire smiled, his sharp fangs extending past his lip.

-

-

"Alright, we'll be starting simple," instructed Harry. He paced before those gathered, watching them carefully. Buffy was standing rather slouched, her attitude almost as if she were bored, but Harry could tell it was just an act. She was watching him carefully and was actually listening. Willow was settled on the ground looking up and Harry, her head cocked to the side. Ox sat beside her, his back stiff and straight. Xander stood next to Buffy. The older boy seemed to be harking back to the night he'd been a solider, his posture strict. He even gave Harry a mock salute as he passed.

"Uh? How are we gonna fight your magic?" questioned Willow, her face pensive.

"Well, you won't really be fighting it...just learning how to avoid it."

"Dodging?" inquired Buffy.

"Yeah, and blocking."

"But how can we block...?" Willow's voice trailed away as she watched Harry begin to wriggle his fingers. She opened her mouth to ask what he was doing when a gold shield appeared in Harry's hand.

"Cool," gushed an awed Xander. The others turned to him with raised eyebrows. "I mean that was...oh come on, you know that was cool. It just appeared!"

"I just called it from my trunk, I have enough for each of you," explained Harry.

"What is it?" asked Buffy. She stepped forward and ran a hand along the smooth metal.

"Well, a shield, duh Buff, you're supposed to be up with the weapons," teased Xander. Buffy sent him a glare.

"This is...different," stated Buffy. Willow jumped to her feet and came over touching the shield. She closed her eyes for a moment.

"Mmm, feels good," Willow purred.

"It's a protective shield," informed Harry. "It can repel or block most magic. Not all...but most."

"What about that cactus curse...does it block that?" Buffy questioned.

"Sort of...but not really. It has been known to muffle the effects. You feel like the curse is running up your hands, if you are holding the shield when it's hit," explained Harry.

"What about that over one...the killing one," asked Willow softly.

"The shield responds like any other object that gets in the way of killing curse. It stops it, but than it shatters. One killing curse and it's gone." Harry flicked his wrist and with a wave of his wand copied the shield at his feet, creating enough for everyone. With another wave he sent each to their respective owners. The others fingered the gold shields curiously. They were surprisingly light for such thick looking metal.

"Hmmm," Oz nodded. The others nodded as well, their usual carefree faces serious. They all knew the 'game'.

"Well, I guess we should practice magical dodging huh?" asked Willow. Buffy nodded.

"Okay," With a concentrated glint in his eye, Harry raised his wand and began firing.

-

-

After their five hour practice, the group had declared it was time for a break. Harry had nodded in agreement knowing not to push them too hard. He had learned quite a bit in his stint as the leader of the D.A. Now they were all gathered in the living room of Giles's flat. The small TV that Giles owned was blaring.

Harry slouched in his chair, yet his own posture was hardly as poor as many of the other's gathered around. Xander was flat on the couch, his legs dangling out in midair to make room on the other end for Willow. She leaned her head on a pillow, her arm drawn up to her chest wincing slightly at the bruise that was forming. During one dodge she had rolled improperly and landed hard on a stone. Ox was seated on the floor next to the red-headed wicca, his arm draped around her legs and he squeezed her knee comfortingly. Willow smiled but she was still a little disappointed with her performance. She had always relied on less physical means of fighting, magic, crosses, holy water, nothing that usually required contact. Dodging was much more physical. Xander had done a little better than her, having never been gifted in magic or particularly quick-witted (although he had his moments) thus while patrolling with Buffy he had largely relied on some fighting ability. Oz had been even better, his werewolf strength and speed coming into play.

But, it was Buffy who had done the best, as if there had been any doubt. The slayer had quickly been able to dodge the visible spells, and although she had been hesitant with the more invisible variety she had managed that as well. She smiled happily. Harry had watched her smile with a warmth in his chest. He knew, how could he not, how much she hated being helpless. In truth, Harry knew that his magical shields would only buy them time. As much as Harry admired Buffy and her 'scoobies,' there was little hope that they could actively fight a wizard, but at least now they stood a chance.

"That is soooo fake," commented Buffy watching the screen. They had stumbled upon an old horror movie while flipping through the channels. Harry glanced at the screen casually. He hated to admit it but he didn't think television would ever hold a sway over him like it did for the others. Starring at the telly always reminded him of Dudley.

"Goodness, how can you rot your brains like that?" asked an exasperated Giles, sticking his head out from the kitchen. "You could at least turn the bloody volume down," the watcher commented.

"Giillllessssss," moaned Buffy. "We'll miss the good parts if we turn the volume down." Giles merely shook his head. It was amazing how well he knew her, he only complained out of habit now.

"See right there, they always get that part wrong," Buffy said. She pointed to the screen where a hero was pulling away a cross while the vampire was shrieking in pain, blisters erupting from the contact. "Crosses don't do nearly that much damage, and with a vampire's healing ability well they'd hardly be struck down because of a little wooden cross. Metal is much better," lectured Buffy.

"Yeah but Buff, they got the right idea at least...better than that whole garlic-" Willow's eyes widened and she smacked her hand to Xander's mouth.

"Let's not start the garlic discussion again," the red-head urged.

Harry smiled as Buffy muttered something about 'vampire propaganda' which caused Harry to snort in laughter.

"My first Defense against the Dark Art's professor used to always smell of garlic. The rumor was he ran into a group of vampires and was always worried they'd track him down again," said Harry a small smile on his lips. Buffy raised her eyebrows.

"And he was your teacher?" she sneered unhappily.

"Well if it makes you feel any better he was the servant of an evil wizard and tried to kill me," stated Harry rather matter-a-factly. The comment was met with silence.

"Um...well, yeah, I guess that is an excuse," responded Buffy with thoughtful look on her face.

"Harry had a teacher try to kill him, welcome to the club man, we'll give you your membership card as soon as we get them printed," joked Xander. Harry smiled and nodded. "He uh...didn't try to seduce you first...uh did he?" the dark haired young man asked.

Harry stared at the other boy for a moment. Then with a jerk, Harry shook his head trying to remove the mental picture Xander had placed in his skull. Quirrel being _sexy, _wandering the halls with a come hither stare...eck. Gag.

"_No!_" Harry managed to say when he had regained composure. Xander sighed.

"Guess I'm still alone in that category then," Xander sighed dramatically. Willow petted his arm in consolation.

"Poor Xander," she said with much false pity.

"Some how I'll carry on," moaned Xander.

"Oh come on!" shouted Buffy angrily. She pointed a finger accusingly at the telly. "Vampires can not FLY!" she dictated. Willow and Xander broke into giggles. Oz even managed a chuckle.

"What?" she demanded, "Well, they can't" she said indignantly. The others continued to laugh. Buffy rolled her eyes before cracking a smile.

"Well, I'm personally glad they can't fly," commented Willow.

"Yeah imagine how hard they'd be to slay..although maybe the slayer would get something extra...ooh...like a rocket pack! I'd be like Rocketeer Buffy," she hummed slightly imagining it.

"I think I can guess someone's secret desire," claimed Willow.

"Hey...well I have to admit the whole super power thing would be better if I could fly," confessed Buffy.

"I'll have to take you for a ride on my broom," promised Harry. Silence. Xander gagged. The others shot him a glare. Willow turned away from the choking Xander and faced Harry.

"Harry, that really isn't funny," stated Willow. "Magical people have to fight against those stereotypes." Harry's brow wrinkled in confusion.

"Huh...I wasn't joking," stated Harry. Willow frowned but then her eyes widened and her mouth became an O.

"You really can fly...on brooms?" gushed Buffy.

"Uh...yeah, I was on my House Quidditch team. It's a game played on broomsticks," explained Harry. Buffy smiled wider.

"Can I get a ride too?" Xander asked having recovered from his fit. Indeed everyone was nodding in excitement. Harry nodded.

"Sure, but it might be better to wait until night since you live in the city," added Harry. The others smiled in agreement.

They all settled back into their stupor, watching the flickering images on the screen.

"Bloody Hell!" a male voice yelled from the kitchen. The young people all looked up at the sound of metal clanking, followed by more creative swearing. Buffy and Harry exchanged looks, each rising quietly and sneaking toward the kitchen. The pair peeked their heads in, and instantly had to cover their mouths to keep from laughing.

Rupert Giles, the usually stuffy watcher, had a strange red apron draped around his waist. He was glaring at a pan, whose contents could be best described as coal, and sucking his burnt fingers sullenly. In his other hand he held a large metal mixing spoon and from the sounds earlier had been using it as weapon against the offending cooking instrument.

"Now really Giles, is the pan evil? Did it really require slaying?" teased Buffy. Giles whipped around causing Buffy to break into laughter. Harry, spying the distressed look on his Uncle's face, was able to display more restraint, but be couldn't avoid the smile on his lips.

"I well...I thought I'd make dinner," voiced Giles lamely.

"We...ugh, can...laugh...see that," snickered Buffy.

"Yes...well," Giles rambled away while the other members in the house gathered, looking into the kitchen. Xander became hysterical almost immediately, while Willow sent him a reproachful look.

"I didn't know you cooked," said Willow kindly. Giles flushed in embarrassment.

"I don't," he confessed.

"I can fix something up," offered Harry. Giles however shook his head in the negative.

"You've done far too much cooking for us," declared Giles. Harry smiled slightly.

"Pizza?" suggested Buffy.

"Yum...yeah Pizza," agreed Xander. "Everything with a side of Everything, none of those little fishy things though," ordered Xander.

"Yuck, you don't get to pick the pizza again," argued Willow. "We're going to eat people food, not a monstrosity,"

"Yeah, if we wanted a monstrosity we could just eat Giles's cooking," teased Buffy playfully. Her watcher sent an irritated glare in her direction.

After a small scuffle over the pizza toppings, the gang gathered back in the living room. This time Giles settled himself at the table and Harry joined him. The younger man turned his chair around and watched the others. Once again the group had become boneless, their bodies slumped about the room. The sun slowly sank and soon the room was only lit by the telly and the soft green lamp on Giles's table. Giles haphazardly skimmed through his books. After laughing at Buffy's outrage over another movie mistake, Harry turned to his Uncle who was frowning.

"What's the problem?" he inquired.

"I suppose I just don't like the coincidences that have occurred here. Coincidences always point to prophecies, but I can't find any that would fit our particular situation." Giles stared off into space for a bit and Harry swallowed nervously. Harry was done with prophecies. Trying to draw his Uncle's attention from the book in his hand Harry asked,

"What coincidences are bothering you?" Giles put the book down and looked pensively at his nephew.

"Well, it's just a little odd that the moment you come to visit, we have a dark wizard arrive in Sunnydale, with ties to your past. It's also peculiar that he choose to run here, the one place in the world where you go...it is merely strange. Why would a British wizard on the run come here?" Giles removed his glasses and cleaned them.

"Well he couldn't stay in England. He'd be tracked down by the Aurors. More than likely he was attracted by all the dark magic floating around this town. I'm only glad Voldemort never discovered this place, it is like a nexus for evil energy...no telling what he'd have done with it. Why is that anyway?" asked Harry with a frown.

"No has told you?" Giles asked. Harry shook his head. "Oh, well Sunnydale is on a hellmouth. It is place where the barriers between hell and earth are very thin, and various people have even tried to open them from time to time...making them even weaker." Harry blanched at Giles's words.

"Open...like unleash Hell on Earth kind of open..." Harry's voice trailed off. "How has it been opened in the past?" Harry asked nervously.

"Oh, usually a magical ritual." Giles's eyes bugged as he took in the implication of his words. There was a magical madman on the cusp of hell, and they hadn't even considered the possibility of him opening it? Giles closed his eyes and groaned.

"I'm thinking we better find Macnair fast," advised Harry.

"Do you think he's capable of it?" Giles asked. He feared he already knew the answer but rather than answering immediately Harry paused and leaned back in his chair.

"Honestly, I don't know. He's powerful enough to manage it...but before I'd have said any kind of research or planning was beyond him. He was always Voldemort's pet torturer...not big on complex thought. But now..well, he found his way to Sunnydale, he managed to control the vampire and demon population, he's even challenging the Slayer...he must have some motive I just can't tell what it is." Harry bowed his head in thought. Macnair? Harry hated the sadistic bastard, that was no question. But, he had never honestly considered him a terrible threat.

"Harry, those Aurors you mentioned. They're like police right? Couldn't you contact them and have them deal with Macnair." Harry paused with a frown, he hadn't even considered it.

"I...I suppose I could," Harry paused.

"But?" Giles asked.

"Well, firstly they are busy. A few of Voldemort's supporters managed to escape the explosion, they're busy rounding things up," stated Harry.

"But, wouldn't Macnair be part of the 'rounding things up'" inquired Giles. Harry shrugged.

"They don't know he's alive. I even thought he was dead. And well, there is another reason. I guess I don't want to get in touch with them because then they'd find out I was here," replied a sheepish Harry.

"Harry? Are you hiding from the Aurors?" whispered Giles. He glanced concernedly at his nephew.

"Oh you think...they're not after me. I don't think. It's just well, I kinda took off and didn't tell anyone where I was going," Harry cringed as he spoke.

"Why?" mumbled a flustered Giles.

"Eh, well, I just needed to get away for a bit. Clear my head and what not," Harry offered his Uncle a cheeky smile. Giles shook his head.

"Harry, Not that I'm not glad you're here...but well, running away doesn't help anything."

"I'm not running," argued Harry. "Okay...well maybe a little bit, but it's not a crime to want to take a holiday." Giles shrugged his shoulders.

"Look, I promise, if things get out of hand I'll call the Aurors, okay?" said Harry as a compromise.

"But Harry, you said he killed a friend of yours..." Giles trailed off at the flash of anger on Harry's face. "Look, I'm not doubting you...but this man seems to use magic without thought. I just don't want you to get hurt," appeased Giles. Harry nodded and looked away.

"What if I promised you I could handle him," the young man muttered.

"What do you mean, how can you promise?" asked Giles. Harry shrugged.

"I can," was all he said. Giles nodded slowly.

Harry didn't tell Giles that he had killed Voldemort, Macnair's master. How could Macnair possibly compare to that? And, with his magic's current level...well let's just say Harry wasn't particularly scared of Macnair. He was scared of the things the mental wizard might do to other people before he got to him, but he wasn't afraid of Macnair. He could have explained all these things to Giles and eased his Uncle's mind. But, honestly, he didn't want to be known as an extremely powerful wizard. He didn't want his Uncle to think of him that way. For once he had found a relative who seemed to care about him. It was something he'd wanted his whole life. Would Giles treat him the same if he knew what Harry was capable of? Harry didn't want to take the chance, so instead he let his Uncle worry, appeasing him with a weak promise.

_Ding._ The doorbell rang and Buffy jumped to her feet.

"Pizza," she said happily. The other's rose as well. But when the door opened they weren't met with the delicious smell of pizza, but rather someone was standing in the doorway.

"Hey Angel," greeted Buffy nervously.

"It got dark, I came back," the vampire replied bluntly, his voice nervous as well.

"We're so glad," commented Xander sarcastically. Willow smacked him on the shoulder.

Buffy stared out as the darkness framed Angel. His soft eyes staring back at her. Her fingers trailed up and down her arms, rubbing away the chill air that drifted in from outside.

-

-

A/N: Dear Readers, hope you enjoyed. A little calm before the storm. School, as I predicted, slowed the update speed, but I gave you a nice long chapter. Hope that makes up some. Reviewers do make me write faster. I promise. Now it is late, and I must get up early. I hope you people are happy, I'm giving up sleep for you lot. Smiles.

Della


	14. The Awkward Trio

Chapter Fourteen: The Awkward Trio

-

-

Both Buffy and Angel remained in the doorway for a moment. Neither said much. The people inside the house didn't really know what to say either. And, perhaps they might have been trapped in this never ending ocean of silence for the rest of their lives, if not the presence of a slightly high-pitched voice speaking from behind Angel.

"You folks order a pizza," the voice asked. Snapping back to the present, Angel moved out of the way and Buffy spotted an acne faced boy with a red jacket holding two pizza boxes.

"Uh yeah," she said. Giles stood up as well and pulled out his wallet from his back pocket.

"How much is that?" asked the Watcher. The delivery boy responded and Giles counted out the money. Angel slipped past them in the exchange, but didn't move into the room. Rather he stood hesitantly before Buffy.

Buffy wasn't certain how to greet the vampire. It seemed natural to give him a hug in greeting, but that also seemed terribly inappropriate under the circumstances. Deciding to do nothing she stood limply waiting for Giles to shut the door.

With the door closed, everyone followed Giles and the pizza. They gathered around the boxes, each reaching in and taking a piece.

"You missed magic defense training, Harry taught," Buffy said directing the conversation toward Angel. Angel's gaze left Buffy for a moment and he seemed to watch Harry. The green eyed wizard showed no signs of discomfort, he returned Angels gaze with no expression.

"I'd be happy to discuss any of it with you," spoke Harry, interrupting the starring contest. Angel shrugged and looked away.

"I'm sure I can handle it," assured the vampire. Harry nodded and didn't push the issue. Buffy fumbled around for another conversation topic. She bit into her pizza and chewed.

"Yeah..ugh you sure know your stuff Harry, you train people before?" she questioned.

"Yeah...well sort of." Harry shrugged. Once again the topic was dropped. Buffy's mind tried to find something else. Angel was once again staring at Harry, almost as if he were trying to read something on his face. Buffy glanced at her other friends. Willow seemed as aware of the tension as she was, while Oz looked like he didn't have a care in the world and merely bit into his pizza and chewed. At least someone was enjoying the food. Xander looked to be in a good mood. His eyes kept looking between Harry and Angel, a smile on his face.

"I know," Xander said with a rather evil looking smile, "Why don't we have Angel and Harry fight, just to make sure Angel can handle a magical fight."

"No!"

"No!"

"No!" Three voices shouted as one. Both Harry and Angel raised an eyebrow at the three who had yelled. Willow had gone dangerously pale, Giles was shaking his head, and Buffy was giving Xander a stern look.

"There will be no fighting," directed Buffy. Xander made a move to object but Willow hastily clamped a hand across his mouth.

"Mpf..." Xander mumbled in complaint.

"I think I better patrol," Buffy said with a shake of her head.

"I'll go with you,"

"I'll go with you" said both Harry and Angel at the same time. Angel shot the wizard a hard look, but Harry looked rather innocent. Buffy paused for a minute. Thinking of no other option she nodded her head.

"Okay, let's do some scouting. Maybe we can track down where this Macnair is at," suggested Buffy.

"Good idea, I might be able to sense him if we get close enough," Harry said with a nod. Angel looked away from Buffy and Harry, a slight movement of his head the only sign of agreement.

"Hey folks, I don't mean to sound paranoid...but what if those guys come here? We don't exactly have super powers or magic," stated Xander. Harry looked pensive.

"I do know a spell that should protect you, its called the Fidelius Charm. It hides a location of a place inside a person. That way a place can only be found if the secret keeper confides the location to someone..." Harry looked up at the blank looks he was getting.

"Did anyone else hear that and just go, _eh_?" questioned Xander. Buffy, Willow and Oz raised their hands. Giles looked thoughtful.

"I guess the best way to explain it is...well, this spell makes a place invisible and intangible to anyone who isn't told it is there...does that make more sense?" asked Harry. The others nodded slightly.

"Is it difficult to cast?" Giles questioned.

"Eh...well no, not particularly, no." Harry shrugged his shoulders. They didn't need to know that most wizards wouldn't even dream of attempting the Fidelius Charm.

"Ooh, lets do it. I'd like to see you do big Magic!" squealed Willow excitedly.

-

That was how Harry found himself out in the front lawn, skimming through a spell book. He had cast the Fidelius Charm once before, although it was merely for learning's sake. Harry hadn't understood why Dumbledore had wanted him to learn the spell at the time, after all it was advanced defensive magic not offensive, it wouldn't help him in his war against Voldemort. The old wizard had mentioned something about it being useful. Harry was glad he knew it now. He didn't want to run the chance of Macnair finding any of his new friends.

The others stood behind Harry, Willow glowed with excitement. Buffy looked as if she'd rather be out on patrol, but she did want her friends safe. Harry raised his wand. He let his eyes slip into magic sight, staring into the stillness for a moment. Then Harry raised his wand into the air, waving the tip in a circular motion. He then began to chant.

"Is Locus In Meus Pectus Pectoris Quod Gurd Is Ibi," Harry called into the night. Harry ignored Xander's giggles and a smack, which he assumed came from Willow and not Buffy, as Xander wasn't crippled with pain. Turning back to his work, Harry repeated the phrase three times. With each repetition a wisp of magic flew from his wand towards the house. As the magic grew farther away, it fractured into millions of magical strings. The golden magic encircled the house then paused, waiting for the final step.

"Fidelius," Harry stated tapping his chest with his wand. In a flash of color, the infinite number of lines surrounding the house rushed into Harry. He gasped as the magic entered his body. He might have fallen but the power kept him erect, he rose on his tiptoes, chest thrust out. He clutched his straining chest waiting for the rush to subside. Eventually it did, Harry took a deep breath and rubbed his muscles slowly. Ouch.

Harry turned around and saw six rather amazed looking people.

"My house..." uttered Giles. He seemed to be in shock. Harry could only guess as to what his Uncle was seeing, to him everything looked the same. Buffy took a step forward. When she reached a place where she assumed the house had been, she stuck out a hand curiously. Harry watched in amusement as his Uncle's place seemed to flow away from her fingers.

"It's not there," Buffy called over her shoulder. The others approached and reached out tentatively as well. The house seemed like smoke to them, they just slipped right through it.

"Harry...my house?" Giles asked again. He paused and frowned, "I don't remember where I live," he stated in confusion. Harry smiled and leaned in toward his Uncle.

"Uncle Rupert I believe you live at 323 Roulo drive," Harry whispered. The confusion faded from his Uncle's face and Giles smiled in relief to find his house in existence again. Harry repeated the process with the other scoobies, choosing to whisper the words on the odd chance that one of their enemies might otherwise overhear. Willow was, of course, a bundle of questions but Harry managed to appease her with a promise of explanation after patrol.

Thus, Xander, Willow, Oz and Giles all returned to the now secure inside, plans were also made for Giles to contact Mrs. Summers and have her go to Giles's house while Harry Buffy and Angel went on patrol. Harry left the location of the house on a piece of parchement for the scoobies to show Mrs. Sum-Joyce.

It was then that three people finally left, Buffy toting the golden shield Harry had given her earlier. The three were slowly walking into the city when Buffy spoke up.

"Harry, you know this guy right?" questioned Buffy pensively. Harry nodded curtly. He wasn't best mates with Macnair but...he supposed he did have some insight on how the man thought.

"Well, what kind of place would he likely hang out in? Ritzy mansion, cave, the Mall?" asked Buffy, a hopeful tone was attached to last location. Harry laughed softly but shook his head. Buffy groaned.

"Once, just once I'd like to have a baddie whose favorite place is the mall."

'You did blast to bits that one demon in a Mall," reminded Angel.

"Oh, right...maybe it will become a trend." This joke elicited a small smile from Angel while Harry laughed in his quiet way. Straightening his face, Harry continued answering her question.

"Well, Dark wizards are notoriously pompous, living in big manor houses...but Macnair isn't like most of them. He's more...creepy," finished Harry with a slight frown.

"Creepy?" inquired Buffy with a raised eyebrow. She smiled wickedly. "The best word you can come up with is creepy?"

"Hey you met him, he's...creepy," argued Harry. Angel tensed protectively at Harry's casual mention of Buffy's previous meeting with the wizard. The vampire wouldn't forget her screams anytime soon. He also didn't think Harry should bring it up.

"You got a point, definitely creepy. Does he always smile like that?" she wondered aloud.

"Ugh, he did the smile thing? That's almost worse than the curse," complained Harry companionably. Buffy shook her head in amusement at the young wizard. Angel found himself watching Buffy with a slight bit of amazement. She had a tendency to shut down about anything that bothered her. He'd always seen her do it before. Whenever she'd been victimized, she'd block it out and pretend it never happened. How had Harry managed to easily get under that hard skin with only a few joking complaints? He found himself watching the young wizard more closely as they walked.

Again the feeling from earlier returned to him. His vampire senses were screaming that something wasn't right about this magic. He breathed the air trying to get a taste of it. Now, vampires couldn't see magic, but they could feel it, taste it. It wafted around him like a perfume as he walked in step with the young wizard. It was an odd blend. There was lightness and good, but then on another side there was a bitter taste, an evil so dark that made the demon inside Angel squirm. It was an evil born of practice, of habit, a darkness that reeked.

"Dark Wizard?" Buffy interrupted Angel's thoughts with a hazy voice. Her forehead was scrunched as she tried to remember something. "That's what you said wizards call Good and Evil right, Dark and Light."

"Yeah," Harry nodded. His eyes on Buffy, almost as if he could see the wheels in her head turning.

"That one vampire, the good one, the one I fought the first night you patrolled with me..." Buffy trailed off.

"Yeah, the one whose jaw you broke?" questioned Harry.

"Yeah...he...or was it the idiot he was with? Well, they said something about getting the 'light' out of this city. Now I've fought lots of vampires and never heard them use that word before."

"You think he was connected with Macnair," it was more of a statement than a question. Harry nodded his head following along with her thoughts.

"It tracks. It explains why all the vampires and demons are working together in teams. The increased activity." Buffy bit her lip in thought.

"And someone was contacting vampires in L.A.," added Angel

"Yeah...how is it a human can boss around vampires?" questioned Buffy.

"I don't know how he got them to agree, but I know some powerful gangs have drifted to his side. If he got the higher up vampires, the lesser groups would follow," explained Angel. Harry nodded.

"Magic?" Buffy asked turning to Harry.

"I thought that. I don't think the Imperius curse works on vampires though," Harry said thinking aloud.

"The huh?" questioned Buffy. Angel too leaned in for an explanation.

"Imperius curse, another unforgivable, it takes away a person's free will. But it doesn't work on everyone, if you have enough inner strength of will then you can fight it. If I understand vampires correctly," here Harry nodded to Angel, "A demon takes control of a body, turning that person into a vampire. As far as strength of will goes, I'm betting a demon's got enough to fight it. Although, if Macnair asked to do something destructive...something the inner demon would want to do...I don't know." Harry sighed. "Of course he could just be ruthless enough that they would listen to him. I mean, he managed to curry favor with wild giants...ruthlessness is practically a way of life," admitted Harry with a shrug.

"There are _Giants_?" gushed Buffy, then with a shake of her head, "Back on topic," she directed. "That vampire was in the big cemetery downtown. And, that is where most of the teamed attacks have happened...or at least in that general area. His base, or whatever, has to be around there," asserted Buffy. Harry nodded at her reasoning.

"Makes sense, and I'd wager that Macnair would love the spooky atmosphere," commented Harry dryly.

"Eck, I know. Haven't these bad guys ever heard about soft lighting or pastels," complained Buffy. Harry raised an eyebrow and glanced over at Angel, silently asking if she were serious. The vampire shrugged with equal confusion.

-

-

Soon the trio found themselves exploring the largest cemetery in town. It was slow and tedious work. Harry was beginning to remember that he didn't like cemeteries. The quiet was driving him mad. He wouldn't have minded half as much if they'd been attacked by vampires. But, wasn't it always the case that as soon as you wanted to be attacked there wasn't a vampire in sight. It was an unusually quiet night thus far and it was putting Harry on edge. The last few nights it hadn't been uncommon for Harry and Buffy to fight twice before midnight. But, everyone seemed to be laying low. As a general rule, when the bad guys are laying low that usually means that nothing good will happen.

Although, Harry had to admit that the lack of action wasn't the only thing that was bothering him. Angel seemed to have this annoying habit of watching Harry closely. The vampire seemed to have an accusing look in his dark eyes, almost as if he knew all of Harry's sins. It was unnerving, and Harry wasn't easily unnerved. At first Harry had wondered if the vampire was just being cautious, as Buffy had said. He couldn't blame him on that count. Harry knew he was relatively cautious himself. Okay...maybe he wasn't as cautious as he should be, he had a habit of running into situations. But, he always got out of them. And Harry had one advantage that not a lot of people have, he didn't care one way or another if he lived or died.

When he was younger he had. Death had seemed like worst thing in the world. That might have had something to do with the Dursleys. When he was little and had asked what happened when people died, Aunt Petunia had snottily told him that 'good people go to heaven, and nasty little freaks like you go to hell.' At the time Harry hadn't known what hell was, and when he found out he'd been understandably upset about his final destination. But, somehow in the space of the last few years, Harry had stopped caring so much about death. Indeed, death didn't seem so bad. And losing that fear of death allowed Harry to fight Dark Lords, to battle vampires. All with no fear.

But that didn't mean that Harry thought he'd be getting out of Hell.

How did he get on this subject? His thoughts had wondered. Ah yes, Angel. Well after awhile, Harry had noticed that Angel wasn't glancing at him in an evaluating sort of way, rather he seemed to just be looking oddly at Harry. It was an expression Harry couldn't quite follow. Not that the vampire was particularly expressive, but he'd occasionally see a strange look out of the corner of his eye. It wasn't cautious, it wasn't friendly, it seemed almost like hatred or fear. Harry couldn't fathom why that could be. He'd been rather kind to Angel, or so he thought. Xander had teased Angel mercilessly and it didn't seem to phase the vampire. Sure, Harry had jolted him a bit with the apparition, but Buffy had been hurt. If any excuse was a good one, that was it.

Maybe Buffy was right, maybe Angel was just very cautious, but Harry didn't get that feeling from these glares. He knew "over-caution" personified, he was friends with the ex-auror Alastor Moody who cursed stay cats on the chance that they were animagi. He knew that look. This was different. Rather, it seemed as if Angel had judged him and found him lacking. And, perhaps that was Harry's own paranoia. But he had the distinct impression he was correct in this instance. Normally he didn't mind much if people did that. If he seemed a little short or seemed a little dark, while he knew they might have reason to think those things. He'd show them eventually who he was. What right did Angel have to judge? He was a vampire, and had most likely slaughtered thousands before getting back his soul. If anyone knew what it was like to walk that thin line between darkness and light, Angel should know it.

Still, Harry had to work with Angel. He was no stranger to working with people he didn't like. Snape, his snarky potion master from Hogwarts, seemed to think it was his life mission to teach all youths that passed his way such a lesson. Well, Harry had learned it well. But that didn't mean he was going to like Angel, especially if the feeling was mutual.

"I hear something," called Angel softly, interrupting Harry's thoughts. "Voices coming from that direction." The vampire raised his hand, pointing of to the left. Buffy nodded, both her and Harry changing their direction.

Harry let his eyes relax, the lids gently covering the eyes. He felt inside his mind for the link that had existed with Voldemort. It still twisted in the back of his mind, like a dying worm. Put enough concentration, enough magic into it and the link twitched. Harry had found, after Voldemort's demise, that this process worked well for sensing if deatheaters were close. On its own, Harry's scar only warned him when Voldemort was near, but with enough concentration he could find those who bore the ugly skull and snake tattoo. Harry's scar, the Dark Mark, it bound them all, even after the originator's death.

"Macnair is not here," Harry said through clenched teeth.

"How can you know that?" Angel asked softly.

"I...it's complicated, but if I concentrate I can sense him if he's near," explained Harry.

"That's handy," commented Buffy. Harry shrugged.

"These could still be his vampires," added Harry. "I can't sense that or not."

"Okay, so let's see what's going on. Even if it just a nest, I should probably, you know, save the day or something," joked Buffy. Harry laughed.

"Ah the troublesome burdens of being the chosen one," teased Harry. Buffy rolled her eyes. She turned to Angel. The group walked more quietly now. They footsteps almost silent, only the sof whisper of rustling the grass rose to their ears. Angel and Buffy had done this thousands of times, and Harry was a quick study. They continued in the direction Angel had pointed for a few minutes until they came upon a dark mausoleum. Well, almost dark. A faint light, almost like candlelight flickered through the cast iron grills that covered the door.

"Any clue how many are in there?" she asked. Angel nodded hesitantly.

"Not more that five, I think," responded Angel. Buffy nodded. Buffy stepped forward with Harry at her side. She reached out a hand toward the rusted lock.

"Easy enough," she whispered aloud. Harry seemed to read her intention, and reached out a hand to have her pause.

"Wait," he cautioned. "Alohamora," he whispered. The lock clicked open.

"Fine we could do it your way," moaned Buffy in complaint. Harry shrugged.

"Well we all don't have super strength, and this is quieter," lectured Harry. Buffy pouted.

"Yeah lets talk-loudly- about how your way was quieter," teased Buffy. Harry reddened slightly.

"Shh," instructed Angel.

"Yes, dad," teased Harry. The vampire sent him a glare and opened the door.

It didn't look as through this particular entrance had been used recently. The doorway was almost artistically decorated by cobwebs. Leaves from autumns past lay cluttered on the stone floor. The trio entered cautiously. Buffy swatting away the cobwebs in her hair with a disgusted look on her face. Eck. She had a job to do but, honestly, couldn't they have tidied up a little. Buffy felt a small tingle at the back of her neck. Her hand touched her hair to find the sticky web gone from her head. She looked beside her and Harry gave her a small smile. She nodded her head thankfully.

The light from earlier seemed to coming from a small trapdoor, which no doubt led to a cellar, or perhaps the sewer tunnels under the city. Whatever voices Angel had heard earlier were silent now. The three grouped around the trapdoor. Their gazes met for a moment deciding a plan of action. Jumping into a pit of unknown number of vampires wasn't on the list of good ideas. Still, this certainly was the most well trained bunch Buffy had ever patrolled with. A vampire and a wizard, both whom she could count on to watch her back and take out a few vamps. She was about to single that she'd jump first when Angel looked away for a moment. His head tilted in a manner as if listening for something. Buffy paused as well. She heard it, a rustling. A dry sound.

The leaves on the floor.

Buffy had just realized what it was, when something kicked her upper back with a great deal of force. Losing her balance, she found herself propelled down, head first, into the cellar. She was vaguely aware of two voices frantically calling her name before the trap slammed shut.

-

Harry reflexively spun out of the way, feeling a foot graze his side. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Buffy slip through to the cellar. He called her name and it was echoed by the vampire at his side.

WHAM. In an oddly detached manner, Harry discovered that he had remained still for too long. Something that didn't feel human had struck his hip. He collapsed to the ground his eyes looking up at his attacker. A male vampire with shoulder length blonde hair was holding a baseball bat above him. A baseball bat, ah, that made sense. The vampire might have played in life, he certainly seemed confidant handling his chosen weapon. He raised it over his head and brought it down with surprising speed. Harry rolled out of reach, while at the same time sending healing magic to his hip, which based on the shooting pain was probably broken. Harry used his arms to push himself back up as the warm magic soothed his leg. He balanced on his good leg for a moment. The vampire neared, this time his aim seemed to be for Harry's head. The young wizard ducked, then with a flick of his hand and a somewhat evil grin, the vampire's bat became a flaming torch. The blonde vampire screeched, dropping the bat but his hands were already alight. He tried to frantically put the fire out, but due to the magical nature of this fire, it quickly engulfed his whole body.

Harry had turned his back on the fiery vampire, and was assessing the situation. Angel was fighting two vampires. But, didn't seem to be having any difficulties. Both of his attackers seemed young as well. Harry's eyes left the fight for a moment and tried to figure out where the attackers had come from. He had been fairly certain that the tomb had been empty. There weren't a lot of places to hide after all. As the last flames of the dying vampire behind him flickered, Harry's eyes caught a glimpse of something else. His eyes traveled up. His mouth opened slightly when he noticed a balcony of sorts surrounding the main area. There standing casually, two rows thick, was a cadre of vampires watching the battle. Just before the light left Harry saw one of the vampires smirk in his direction.

Harry turned back to Angel and watched as he dusted the last of his opponents.

"Buffy," moaned Angel, his voice haunted. He rushed toward the trapdoor and began to tug on the iron ring that protruded from the stone surface. Harry turned his body so that he could watch both Angel and the vampires gathered above. They were harder to see in the dark, the subtle gray of their pale skin highlighted in the darkness was his only sign that they were there.

"Give me a hand," Angel called to Harry. Harry waved his hand absently and noted with some interest that magic had been used to seal the door once shut. It wasn't particularly difficult to break, but a non-magic wielder wouldn't have been able to open it. Angel crouched down and scanned the darkness below.

"I can't see her," he whispered. Harry nodded, his gaze not leaving the vampires above.

"Aren't you coming?" demanded Angel, his hand motioned toward the cellar.

"I'll be down in a bit," stated Harry. Angel shot a questioning glance at Harry, who raised his head slightly indicating the vampires above them. Harry watched as Angel's face recognized the situation. "You go ahead," urged Harry. "Make sure she's okay, and shut the door when you leave," advised Harry. Angel seemed to pause with indecision a moment. His gaze stared at the floor Harry was standing on. The young wizard found himself wondering what the vampire was thinking. But, before Harry had to urge him to move, Angel nodded his head and slipped into the darkness of the cellar. His hand gripped the ring on the other side as he leaped, closing the trapdoor behind him.

"_Lumos stasis_," muttered Harry. He watched as three balls of light emerged and floated to the ceiling. The little lights moved around in a circle casting odd shadows in the tomb. Harry looked up, trying to count how many vampires surrounded him. His best guess was twenty. If he lived, he was going to give Angel a hard time about his estimate of five vampires. Definitely not five.

"So, he chose to remain alone. A noble sacrifice, or has your ego misinterpreted your worth?" asked a cultured voice from above. Harry looked at the speaker. He recognized him as the vampire who had smirked earlier. Harry watched him for a moment. Unlike the three who had been sent down, this one seemed older. Harry wasn't certain how he knew this, after all he hadn't been fighting vampires for long and physically this vampire didn't look out of his twenties, but Harry knew he was old. Perhaps it was the way his dark copper hair fell about his shoulders in a soft wave, or the way his tailored clothes seemed to speak of a different time. It was all subtle. He could no doubt blend in among mortals with little trouble, but the little touches spoke of days gone by. Long gone.

"Who are you?" asked Harry, honestly curious.

"Introductions, from your kind? How odd. Usually you stake first, no civility." The vampire ran a finger through his hair as he spoke. "But you are quite right, propriety must be observed." His mouth twisted into the briefest of smiles as he said the word 'propriety.'

"I am Morgan Mourir, leader of the Sauvage clan," announced the vampire. His hand indicated that those around him were his clan. He said his clan's name with a hint of pride, but didn't seem to expect Harry to get the reference.

"What sort of leader would follow another," pondered Harry aloud.

"Indeed, but formalities," urged Mourir.

"Harry Potter." A discontented murmuring arose from among a few vampires, although most didn't appear to understand the cause. Harry could tell Mourir knew who he was by the slight narrowing of his mouth. With a quick change of plans, Harry decided to use this to his advantage. He really hadn't considered having a chat with the vampire, but this might be the perfect way to gather information about Macnair.

"Again, I ask, what sort of leader follows another?" his tone clearly impish this time.

"A leader whose people can see the value in another's idea," remarked Mourir disdainfully.

"I was curious as to whether Macnair had merely convinced you, or if he had bewitched you into following him," stated Harry.

"He is indeed very persuasive," admitted Mourir. Yet, Harry had the distinct impression it wasn't Mourir who was convinced, his voice didn't suggest it, but rather this people whom Macnair had ensnared.

"Now that introductions are out of the way," growled an annoyed vampire to Mourir's left. Their leader merely raised a well shaped brow at the other vampire. But it seemed the younger vampire didn't understand the silent warning Mourir sent. Instead, he leapt from the railing and was dust before he even hit the ground. A wooden stake conjured out of thin air had lodged in his chest. The other vampires looked militant at this action and many snarled like vengeful demons. Mourir on the other hand looked bored.

Harry began to think he had a firm grasp on what kind of a leader Morgan Mourir was. And, as such he made a decision. A handful to vampires left their perch and surrounded Harry on the ground. But the young wizard had made no move to stake these arrivals. Rather he closed his eyes. He would need to draw on some knowledge and concentration to accomplish what he intended.

Harry's eyes remained closed, and just as the vampires drew near, a burst of light filled the room. But this was not the soft lighting of Harry's lumos spell, rather it was full sunlight. The vampires in the room burst into flame before they could move a step, the inside of the dark tomb seeing sunlight for the first time in decades. Shrieks echoed against the stone

But, this conjured light avoided one spot, Morgan Mourir found himself remaining very still as a black cloud seemed to encircle him, protecting him from the artificial rays. The light dimmed away and both Harry and Mourir watched as dust drifted lazily from the balcony.

"Hmm, impressive," remarked the lone vampire.

"Not really, the sunlight was easy...it was keeping you away from it that required effort," commented Harry. The vampire nodded.

"I feel very special, but I doubt you spared me for my pleasant conversation skills," stated Mourir rather bluntly.

"But I did. Talk Mourir," demanded Harry.

"About what? I happen to know quite a lot about art...but I think you'd be more interested in current events. As to where a certain wizard has moved his remaining forces to." No one could accuse the vampire of brevity, perhaps he just liked listening to his own voice.

"You're getting the idea," affirmed Harry. The vampire nodded.

"I thought so. But, what is keeping you from unleashing your easily called sunlight once I have told you what you want to know?" inquired the vampire with a thoughtful tone in his voice.

"My word," stated Harry. Mourir looked skyward, his fangs glinting in the briefest of smiles.

"Your word. I am hardly a fool, any vampire over the age of twenty can taste the magic you wield. There is a darkness in your soul Mr. Potter, I don't know if that makes me trust you more or less...but than I don't trust you at all so it isn't an issue." Mourir flicked his shoulders imperiously.

"I don't really need you," reminded Harry. "Sunnydale isn't that big, I'll find him without you."

"Of that I have no doubt. But, you want to find him now don't you. You don't want to wait," commented Mourir. Harry clenched his teeth slightly. The vampire was right there. It made him sick to think of Macnair wondering free. He was a guilty man, he'd tortured Buffy, he'd killed Ron. He deserved punishment, the fact that he walked free was an insult to all Harry had done.

Mourir watched the young wizard carefully. In the brief moment when Harry's mind recalled Macnair's crimes, the young man's eyes had glinted red. Mourir acknowledged this with a quick intake of breath. So, it was true.

"La lumière d'enfer," muttered the vampire under his breath. Harry didn't hear. The vampire smiled slightly. "Indeed, Mr Potter," announced Mourir loudly, "perhaps it is your word we can trust. After all, it does me no harm to confide this in you, and for all the darkness in you, there is an equal line with good." Mourir rolled his eyes at the word good. "And while I may not be a fool, Macnair is. He spoke so gleefully of his moments with the slayer," mentioned the vampire. He was rewarded with another flash of red from Harry's eyes. "I do hope you intend on finishing him yourself, I'd hate for those you count among you to be so trifled with," added the vampire.

"Why do you care?" asked Harry cautiously.

"I don't. As you can see followers are free for the asking," Mourir raised his had and indicated the still falling dust.

"They aren't followers their friends," argued Harry.

"To-may-to, To-ma-to, Mr Potter." Harry frowned, Mourir might not see a difference but he did. But, Harry couldn't help but wonder if Mourir cared about anyone. Indeed, Mourir didn't seem very upset about the loss of his followers. Try to understand vampire logic...they're worse than girls thought Harry with a slight shrug. The confusion must have shown on his face, as the vampire choose to address it.

"My _clan,_ Mr Potter, is truly only myself. As all the best clans are indeed only their leaders. The other vampires are like toenails on a body. You may have trimmed my nails young wizard, but I can always grow more," explained Mourir. With a shake of the head he gave the wizard a piercing stare. "Aren't you supposed to be threatening me for information now? 'And it had _better_ be true'." The last sentence was uttered in a deeper voice, Mourir taking on a heroic pose. Harry rolled his eyes.

"I'm new at this bit," replied Harry sheepishly.

"Ah, naivete, how sweet," commented the vampire. Harry's gaze grew fierce.

"Shut it," commanded the young wizard. Mourir did his best to look contrite.

"Well, no more beating around the bush, things to do and such...our illustrious leader chose to relocate to a place of more prominence. The area is of some importance and due to an unfortunate fire, the location was abandoned."

"Huh? That's as clear as mud," grumbled Harry.

'Well, I was going to make it sound all prophetic but 'Clarity of mind means clarity of passion,' as they say. And indeed this is a passionate time, not a time of lengthy words but a time of action and..."

"A bit too late on the lengthy words bit," interrupted an annoyed Harry. Where did this guy come from, he wondered, weren't vampires supposed to be violent bloodthirsty beings? This guy didn't seem like he could best a toaster.

"Indeed, fine. Macnair has moved to hellmouth, west side of town, former highschool. Clear enough?" Harry nodded looking away to ponder what this might mean. Mourir gave the young man a last look. The child had no idea what he was starting, what he was getting into. It almost made this whole shame of following Macnair worth it. Almost. These sort of things were always so tenuous. One never knew if ones work had paid off until the deed was done. Using the boy's moment of distraction, Mourir snuck toward an exit behind him, best not to tempt a gray wizard's word. By the time Harry looked up the vampire was gone.

Harry didn't find himself concerned about Mourir's quick exit. He was more concerned about what he had learned, and what this information might mean. He and his Uncle had discussed the possibility of Macnair attempting to open the hellmouth, but their speculation was beginning to sound more probable. They needed to head back and make a plan. Normally Harry might have been tempted to storm in and 'get' Macnair. Although what 'get' meant at the moment was unclear. Still, the possibility of unleashing hell on earth was reason enough to pause.

Now, where were Buffy and Angel...?

-

-

A/N: Okay, see how much I love you. I'm currently sick in bed, sneezing, burning with fever, and various nasty liquids are leaking from my nostrils (too much information?) I'm practically on my deathbed people! (Okay that is a little much) And yet I chose to exert myself and finish this chapter. Now do you all feel loved. You had better! Perhaps some well wishing reviews would cheer me up. Hint. hint.

Also, what do you think of Mourir? He's hardly to play a large part but I kinda like him as a character..what is your opinion?

Now as many of you know, I have a habit of responding to reviews. It is only fair, or so I believe. However, I have had some very kind and loyal reviewers who I haven't been able to send my thanks to, and would like to do so now. So thank you for your words Joyclene, Knives, both of you have been very kind to send me many words and I've felt guilty being unable to respond. So thank you. (A big thanks to all my other anon. reviewers too. Don't want you folks to feel left out!)

Mourir's quote is from the French mathematician Blaise Pascal.


	15. Darkening Days

Chapter Fifteen: Darkening Days

-

-

Angel had watched Buffy fall with a sinking stone in his stomach. Later he would think how it was good that he didn't need to breathe, as he hadn't even considered taking a breath while fighting the two vampires who had attacked him from behind. And, _much_ later, he would worry about his attachment to the Slayer. He would worry because he valued her happiness, her safety above anything else. He would worry because he knew that he no longer had any control, had he ever? And he would worry because if Buffy asked him to stay, he knew he would, screw being noble.

But that wasn't what he thought about now. Right at the moment when she fell, the only thing on his mind was the thought that he had to reach her as quickly as possible. The two vampires who got in his way were nothing more that wasted seconds, he dusted them without any emotional connection. The flash of fire from the vampire Harry had been fighting, was nothing more than a light with which to slay by.

"Buffy," the words left his lips before the dusted vampires settled. He hastened toward the stone trap door and pulled with all his might. Yet, the ordinary looking door somehow managed to remain unmoved. He felt like he was tugging on a mountain. Pushing aside his pride he called out to Harry. He didn't like asking the wizard for help, but he'd do worse for Buffy.

"Give me a hand," he finally asked. Harry made no move other than to wave his hand, and Angel was feeling slightly upset when to his surprise the door lifted on it's own. He stilled the urge to jump down instantly and instead scanned the floor directly below hoping for good news. What he wouldn't give to see a dirty Buffy, whining about how her pants were ruined by the grim in the cellar. But there was nothing. The soft light that had filtered through earlier had been snuffed.

"I can't see her," his whispered voice carried through the stillness of the tomb. Shouldn't there be some noise? The sound of Buffy kicking ass right now would be welcome indeed. But this nothing? It was a quiet as death. Angel shivered, there was no time to waste. He looked over his shoulder at the young wizard, the boy whom Buffy seemed so..._comfortable_ with and felt a pang of frustration. Shouldn't this boy be wringing his hands as well? Instead the young wizard stood calmly, looking around the tomb as if admiring the decoration.

"Aren't you coming," hissed Angel in what was a poor attempt at calm. He waved toward the cellar in an attempt to stress the importance of hurrying. But the boy didn't react.

"I'll be down in a bit," replied the wizard. His tone was absent of emotion and Angel felt a thrill of anger at the boy's complacency. Or that is until the wizard jerked his head toward the ceiling. Reflexively Angel followed the gesture, his eyes widening at what he saw. Surrounding them was a large group of vampires, over twenty by his best guess. Although most of the vampires seemed young, there were a few older ones in the midst. Angel tensed when he noticed one vampire, whose age, Angel would guess, was over two hundred. He was resting casually against the railing. Harry's voice interrupted Angel's observation.

"You go ahead," urged the wizard. "Make sure she's okay, and shut the door when you leave."

Angel cast a quick glance at the young man. But, found he couldn't look at the boy. Instead he focused on the ground the young wizard was standing on. He knew that Harry could take care of himself, but twenty or more vampires? That was suicide. Yet the boy showed no signs of panic. Maybe Angel was wrong, maybe it wasn't suicide for someone like Harry. But with a slight wriggle of guilt Angel realized he didn't really care if it was.

He should care.

No one _good_ sent children to their deaths. He should stay. But, he didn't want to. He wanted to find Buffy. And, Angel knew that if Harry died he wouldn't be terribly upset. Indeed, if he were honest with himself, the only thing that made him pause was wondering whether Buffy would be mad at him for leaving the wizard. He'd risk it.

Maybe later he'd feel guilty about it. But hell, by now, guilt was like an old friend.

Leaping into darkness that contained who knows what sort of monster wasn't as scary for Angel as it might have been for others. He'd been dead for over a century now. He was used to darkness. He quickly adjusted to the light...wait light? A faint glow, to faint to be seen from above crisscrossed the room. It allowed him to see where he was. A meeting room maybe? A few chairs scattered the room, but much of the scene was in shambles. A fight had occurred here recently. And, due to the absence of blood in the air, and the abundance of dust Angel assumed Buffy had won. But where had she gone? What could have caught her interest enough to leave? Angel noticed the shadows sway as the distant candlelight flickered.

Like a moth to the flame.

-

-

When Buffy had fallen, she had landed in an un-slayer like heap at the base of the trapdoor. She reacted better and without much hesitation was on her feet, a stake in hand ready for action. Her other hand clutched the shield Harry had given her. He had said Macnair wasn't here...but better safe than sorry. No more cactus curse for her. Her senses were taunt, and in many ways the tension of earlier was more than enough to have her primed for a fight. Thus when she looked up and spotted only two surprised vampires she found herself rather disappointed.

"Well, look what we have-" began one vampire, a poor attempt at intimidation. Buffy didn't feel in the mood for paltry banter. With a flick of her wrist, a stake flew from her hand like a knife and struck the vampire's heart with a satisfying _thunk_. He was dust. The female vampire at his side looked around and made a dash, grabbing at chairs and knocking them in Buffy's direction. She seemed to be heading toward a far door, which Buffy could only assume lead to the sewers.

"Not today," replied Buffy with a shrug. With another well aimed shot, the vampire was impaled through the heart. Just as the vampire turned to dust, the room was plunged into darkness. Buffy rolled her eyes. She would have had to knock over the only light in the room. Now she was stuck in the dark. Or was she? A sliver of light seemed to creep across the room. Buffy debated for a moment whether she should stay where she was, but curiosity got the better of her and she couldn't reach the trapdoor anyway. Walking slowly to avoid any debris, Buffy crossed the room toward the light.

It turned out the light was coming from under an old wooden door. She pressed against the wood cautiously but she didn't hear any voices inside. She ducked her head in first and looked around. The room was empty. She opened the door all the way. She was in some sort of bedroom. And a rather plain one at that. A small bed, and a chair were all that were there. Was this where Macnair had slept. It definitely had a creepy vibe. Buffy shivered. She didn't want to be here, she'd rather wait in the dark. She had turned and was about to go when she noticed something else in the room. A small shelf was recessed in the stone wall next to the door. She could see sheets of paper still there. Buffy approached the shelf. As she neared, she could have sworn she saw motion, but nothing had moved. It wasn't until she stood directly over the papers that she realized what the motion had been. The items left on the shelf weren't paper, they were photographs. But the photographs were moving. Magic? Buffy wondered.

Buffy raised one of the pictures from the dark shelf and moved it closer to the light. Her mouth opened as she felt her stomach drop. Her fingertips grew numb and the photo slipped to the floor. She paused only for a moment before quickly ducking down and grabbing the image with both hands. She was gripping the picture so hard her hands were shaking, she was surprised she hadn't already ripped the image to pieces.

For, the woman in the picture was her. Yet, it had taken her a moment to identify the image with herself, the slayer. Her head was tilted back, arched at an usual angle, her eyes bulged and twitched, her mouth was a gaping wound. She could almost hear the scream that must have come from her lips.

Where? Where had he gotten this? She remembered this, she doubted she'd ever forget it. But, how had he gotten a photo of it. There hadn't been any cameras there, unless there were invisible magical cameras...which there very well could be.

Buffy crushed the picture in her fist. She let the bundle of paper drop to the ground before hastily snatching the others photos off the shelf. She flipped through them hurriedly. She'd never taken a worse picture in her life, that she was sure of. It was sickening to see herself like this. To imagine that terrible man having these- Buffy wanted to...do _something_, puke, burn the place down, scream, smash her fist into the wall, they all seemed like good ideas. She tasted blood in her mouth and realized she'd been biting her tongue. Her hands continued to flip through the images. Why was she doing this? She should trash the lot of them. But for some reason she couldn't stop herself from looking. It was like a terrible accident, you slow your car down to look at the carnage.

Buffy had reached mid-way through the images when she stopped the frantic motion.

This wasn't her.

"Harry?" Her voice seemed to shatter as it left her lips. She really might be sick now. The boy in the picture wasn't the boy she knew. His face was pale and sweaty. His mouth clenched shut. Blood, made more red by his pallid skin, soaked his left arm and dripped onto the floor. And his eyes, those gorgeous green eyes, they glowed with such pain. Those eyes were both alive and dead. It was somehow not right seeing Harry like this. Harry was teasing. Harry was quiet awkwardness. Harry was a deep, quiet laughter that made you feel comforted. Harry was calmness and confidence in the face of danger. He could smile and those beautiful green eyes made you want to smile too.

Seeing him like this was wrong. Very wrong.

Buffy closed her eyes and greeted the darkness. How long she stood there she didn't know. It wasn't important. She wished she could erase the last few minutes. She didn't want to see herself this way, she didn't want to see Harry this way. Yet a rational part of her wondered, how much alike were Harry and herself? She had always been separate from everyone, even her best friends. There was a part of her they couldn't reach. She'd excepted that, sort of. That distance was the reason she didn't tell them things. When she'd gone to meet the Master two years ago, she'd known it would mean her death...yet even given the perfect opportunity she hadn't told Willow. And the years hadn't changed that. Facing the same situation, she still wouldn't tell them. But with Harry...

"Buffy?" a voice interrupted her thoughts. Buffy looked up, the photos were still clenched in her hand. Her neck swung around bringing a twinge of pain.

"Angel." her voice echoed hollowly in the air.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his eyes scanning her.

"I'm..." she had been about the say she was 'fine'. But 'fine' didn't seem to express the feelings she was experiencing. "Let's get out of here," she whispered. Angel frowned and tilted his head, he bit his lip as he watched her.

"What is that you found?" He reached forward in an attempt to look at the pictures in her hand. Buffy pulled away.

"Nothing." She normally would have pulled the images to her chest, out of reach. But, the thought of those moving, lifelike pictures touching her skin would be enough to really make her sick. Angel seemed to play on this moment of hesitation and with a hand bent the corner of the photograph enough for him to see it. He swallowed slightly at the view he received. He felt the twitches of guilt in his stomach. He'd seen images like this before, he'd caused images like this.

"Buffy–"

"He has pictures of me to," interrupted the blonde. Angel paused. He watched the girl before him, she really did look like a little girl. He'd rip the bastard's head off.

Buffy closed her eyes and shook her hair. The strength of the Slayer folded around her like a cloak. Her eyes became harder.

"Where's Harry?" she inquired.

"He's up there fighting some vampires,"remarked Angel casually.

"You didn't stay with him?" Buffy raised an eyebrow.

"I was worried about you," offered Angel by way of an explanation.

"I can take care of myself." The words sounded as if they had been carved in stone. Angel nodded. Buffy left the bedroom behind, Angel trailing after her. They emerged back into the meeting room, and with a small boost from Angel, Buffy emerged from the cellar to find Harry staring blankly into a wall. She'd half expected to find Harry still fighting, but he didn't look as if he'd exerted himself at all. No doubt that explained why Angel had left him, there must not have been many vampires.

Angel leaped through the trapdoor and found Harry in the same condition as Buffy had, but he was slightly concerned by the boy's condition. How? Angel wasn't exactly certain what he wanted to ask, and so remained silent. But, he couldn't help but add another reason to his list of things that bothered him about the young wizard. What kind of teenager can fight twenty vampires and not be tired?

"Harry?" Buffy addressed the young wizard.

"Hey, Macnair moved," commented Harry.

"Yeah, I kinda gathered that when I found his empty room down there," stated the slayer with a slight cringe in her voice.

"Uh, Macnair's room, I hope you haven't been scarred for life," teased Harry. Buffy bit her lip at the attempt at humor. It really wasn't funny.

"Well, I found these." Buffy held out the photos that she had compulsively clutched in her hand since leaving the cellar. Harry bent down and looked at what she held in her hand. His face became a mask, expressionless.

"Oh," he stated. "I spoke with a vampire up here, he said–"

"Harry," Buffy interrupted. "Oh? Is that all you're going to say," demanded Buffy. Harry shrugged.

"What do you expect me to say?" Harry gazed at the young woman.

"I don't know, _something_." The blonde waved the images. "Were you going to say anything about this?"

"I told you I've felt the curse before." Harry was rather blank.

"This is the catus curse? Why are you bleeding?" she prodded. Honestly she didn't know why she was pushing this. Maybe it was because she thought she'd understood Harry's past. Did she even had a clue?

"The blood was from before,"remarked Harry casually. "Now, as I was saying, I think we need to talk to Giles–"

"Before? What did he do before?" Buffy interrupted again. Angel reached out a hand as if to pull Buffy back. Harry's shoulders tensed. He didn't like being bullied about his past. What did the past matter anyway?

"Do you really want to know?" asked Harry, hie eyes glinting cruelly. "Do you want to know that he used a hacksaw on my left arm, he kept sawing until he got down to the bone. Then, he pulled the saw away and I was so happy that I'd made it through without screaming. That was when he started sawing again. He wanted to make an X you see. Is that what you wanted to know Buffy? Does that satisfy your curiosity?" Buffy pulled away, a grimace marring her face. Harry sighed and took a step back. Angel had watched the exchange with hesitation. Although Buffy hadn't noticed, the vampire hadn't been able to avoid seeing the disturbing red color that flickered in Harry's eyes.

"Look, I'm sorry," apologized the young wizard.

"I...I just want to know more about you Harry," Buffy said softly. "I wonder if I know you at all."

"You do know me," sighed Harry with a slight note of exasperation. "That happened to me, it isn't a part of me." Harry shook his head. "But we have bigger problems, I spoke with a vampire here, Macnair has moved to the hellmouth, a former school?" Harry shook his head wondering what idiot would build a school on the entrance to hell. It sure brought a whole knew meaning to the notion of highschool being hell on earth.

Buffy raised her eyes. Her previous worry over Harry temporarily forgotten. She didn't like the idea of returning to Sunnydale High. She'd left the place a little over a month ago, or at least she left the burned out hulk which was all that remained of her previous place of learning. Blowing up the highschool, while practical at the time, had also a rather symbolic quality. She thought she'd left that place behind for good. Ain't life tricky? She heaved a sigh, she should have known it wouldn't be that easy.

"I think we should go back to Giles and see if he had any more info," suggested Buffy. Harry nodded in agreement, considering that had been what he'd tried to say earlier.

The trio trooped back to Giles's house, keeping a wary eye for vampires and demons. They had just left the cemetery when Buffy gave Harry an apprising look.

"You know sometime you'll have to deal with it, you know that right?" she reached out a hand and grasped his forearm softly. Harry bowed his head and didn't say anything.

"How," Buffy asked, "How did he even get them?" Harry rolled his shoulders, he didn't have to ask what she was asking about. The photographs.

"They have silvered edges, did you notice? These are pensive photographs. A pensieve is an object that allows you to review memories. A special camera can capture moments inside a pensieve. I don't know how Macnair got a hold of this equipment...these kind of photographs are usually only used in court trials." Harry shook his head.

"He'd want these images around him though...wouldn't he," observed Angel.

"Yes, I have no doubt he'd find a way to keep some of his favorite moments close at hand," stated Harry, his voice cold and brittle. Harry paused and looked at Buffy. He took her hand for a moment and looked deep into her eyes.

"They are nothing more than something Macnair left to distract us. He's trying to mess with us, he wanted us to find them." Harry voice was firm but soft. Buffy took a deep breath and nodded her head. Her eyes had regained some of her sparkle, her fire.

-

-

There was no activity on the way to Giles's flat, whatever Macnair was doing seemed to be keeping them all the creatures of the night busy. When the they reached the Fidelius protected apartment they went inside to find four heads bent over books, and one rather confused Mrs. Summers.

"Buffy," the older woman greeted. "What's going on? They say there is some madman on the loose, and Giles's house appeared out of nowhere."

"It's a little complicated mom," placated Buffy. She reached out a hand and patted her mother's shoulder.

"A mad wizard from back home is here and I used magic to protect the house," stated Harry.

"Okay, so maybe it isn't that complicated," Buffy smiled slightly as her mother shook her head at their current situation.

"Any luck?" asked Harry, approaching his Uncle who was once again submerged in the books.

"No, I'm afraid not, every time I think I've got something a factor doesn't line up. It's quite tedious work. Surprisingly, I'm better at translating ancient Summarian than I am French." Giles glared down at the particular text he was holding. Across form the table Xander groaned.

"Like this mess is any better. Listen to this, 'But salomon seith -- every thyng hath tyme. --

For goddes sake, as beth of bettre cheere! It is no tyme for to studien heere. '...That doesn't even make sense what language is that?"

"It's middle English Xander and that isn't even a book of prophecy, that's the Miller's tale from Chaucer's _Canterbury Tales_. Where did you find that book?" Giles shook his head.

"Well...it was with all the other leather bound books, how was I supposed to know? What's this story about anyway?"Xander flipped through the pages.

"Well, the Miller's tale is the real racy one if I recall, all about this young woman who... Never mind, find a real book," instructed Giles with a slightly ruffled expression.

"Hmm," Xander carefully tucked Chaucer's novel into his lap and pulled a large book before him. Harry watched as the young man stealthily pulled Chaucer from his lap and re-located the Miller's Tale. Across the table Giles rolled his eyes.

"I know very well what you're reading," sighed Giles. Xander shot the watcher a raised eyebrow.

"How do you know I'm not reading this," asked the young man gesturing to the large book of prophecy.

"Well, first of all that book is written in cuneiform– "

"So, I could have learned cuneiform...you never know," argued Xander with a frown.

"And secondly that book is upside down," finished Giles.

"Oh..."

"You're going to keep pretending, aren't you." Xander made no move to change his position. Giles and Oz nodded while Willow giggled, all deciding to leave Xander to his raunchy medieval literature. Harry smiled at the comfortable group scene. He glanced across the room to see Buffy sitting on the couch, resting her head on her mother's arm. Joyce, stroked her daughter's arm comfortingly. Angel stood in the background like some protective dark angel.

"We did learn something," Harry said, interrupting the stillness. "It seems Macnair has moved from his previous residence in the graveyard and has taken up new lodgings. The hellmouth."

"He's at the school?" asked Willow with raised eyebrows.

"It seems so." Harry nodded. Buffy rose from the couch and approached the others.

"If this wizard has the kinda mojo Harry has, do you think he can open the hellmouth?" questioned Buffy. Giles paused and removed his glasses, thinking for a moment.

"Well, the typical wizard magic might not...but dark magic is often more ritualistic in nature, often it calls upon some of the same elements that are used in nature based magic. I'm afraid Macnair might very well have the power to accomplish that. And, if he is using demons and vampires as bodyguards..." Giles's voice trailed away. Everyone grew silent considering the frightening possibilities. Buffy had thwarted other attempts to open the hellmouth. But, those attempts had always been the work of one band of vampires. How would they manage combat such a large group led by a maniacal monster?

"Haa haa," Xander laughed. He looked up at the serious faces. "Okay, I'm guess that wasn't the right moment to reach the funny part of that story...huh? But seriously, you guys gotta read this. These medieval folks were _nasty_!"

-

-

A/N: Hello dear readers, you can blame midterms for the later update, but never fear I'd never abandon my fic. How do you like, and please review. Reviews protect me from the drudgery of daily study. (Comtemptus Mundi anyone?)

Della


	16. The Begining

Chapter 16: It Begins

-

The gang, plus Mrs. Summers, found themselves gathered around a large round table. Harry had magicked it up while Buffy had 'freshened up' and Mrs. Summers had baked some cookies. The table itself had been designed by Xander. It was constructed of a dark shiny metal, the top looking almost like a mirror.

"Nifty, just like in the movie," commented Xander.

"Which movie was that?" asked Harry. He sat down and looked at the other young man.

"Uhh, one of the James Bond movies I think...or some other spy flick. There was this guy who had nuclear weapons I think, or maybe there was something about a weather machine...but the consortium of villains met around this table." Xander tapped the table.

"Uh...than why are we meeting around it?" inquired Willow.

"The good guys didn't have a cool table," remarked Oz. The wicca looked at both boys speculatively.

"You know what movie he's talking about?"

"Sure." Oz nodded, Xander nodded as well and slapped the werewolf on the shoulder in what Buffy assumed was a friendly gesture.

"Yes, it's the one where the main villain has a silver mustache I believe," added Giles from behind his books.

"Yeah," agreed Xander with a nod of the head.

"You know it too?" Buffy shot her watcher a surprised look.

"Of course, one of the best really. Although I'm also a fan of the earlier version with the same title." Giles looked up to see two girls looking rather confused while both Xander and Oz grinned in agreement.

"_Boys_," Buffy, Willow and Mrs. Summers all managed to say at the same time. Buffy raised an eyebrow at Harry who had remained silent during the movie recollection.

"Did I mention I've been fighting a magical war for the last couple years?" Harry offered with a slight cringe.

"Not an excuse man," replied Xander seriously.

"_So_ is an excuse," argued Willow kindly. "Anyway...I'm sure not every guy is obsessed with those movies...ummm, Angel probably hasn't seen it...right?"

"Yeah, well Angel's kinda been dead for a century or two...now _that_ is an excuse."

"Actually I own the box set," spoke up the vampire from across the table.

"With the extended scenes?" gushed Xander. His eyes looked slightly dreamy.

CLANG

"Ouch." Harry had bashed his head into the table, and metal hurt.

"Yes well, we have some planning to do," said Giles in an attempt to gain order.

"Plan splan," moaned Buffy. "I say we march into the hellmouth and kick some magical ass."

"Buffy," her mother said sharply.

"Fine, magical butt...better? No, actually I mean ass." Joyce frowned.

"Buff, come on we have the cool table. Can't we at least pretend to be a consortium?" pleaded Xander. Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Do you even know what the word consortium means?" inquired Willow.

"It's a gang...right? Am I right?"

"As I was saying," Giles stated, ignoring the others, "I think we need a plan to handle this. According to Angel, Macnair has recruited vampires from Los Angeles and perhaps other cities. Any idea on exact numbers?"

"At least a hundred from L.A. He's recruited five major families. I've heard rumors he's reaching out to New York...but even if he is I doubt they'd be here yet. Traveling when you can't move around in daylight can be tricky."

"Don't forget he's got about every vamp and demon in town marching to his tune," added Buffy.

"How's he got them all listening to him?" asked Xander.

"I don't think he's using magic," added Harry. "Just persuasion. He has power and is ruthless enough to use it mercilessly. That has to appeal to the various groups. From what I can tell Sunnydale is a prize for any dark minded creature...but because of your work, they haven't had full reign. Macnair probably banded them together under the idea of driving the slayer out of town."

"So, if we stop um, Macnair...they'll all stop?" asked Joyce.

"I don't think so," speculated Giles. "He got them here...and his power has allowed him to lead them. But, well...now that they are invested in this town, so to speak. This isn't the first time massive groups have joined together to drive away a slayer."

"Really?" Buffy popped her head up. "What happened to the other Slayers?"

"Well...uh..."

"That's what you call a bad pause." Buffy sighed and reached for one of her Mom's cookies.

"You have to understand Buffy, it is rare for the various forces of evil to align together, due to their...nature...they don't usually trust each other enough to band together into large groups but, when they do--"

"Let me guess much badness occurs."

"Well Slayers have been known to have flew towns or...um--"

"Die," offered Buffy. Joyce cringed.

"Yes well..."

"Well I've got things other slayers didn't have, like my friends."

"Feeling the love Buffster, feeling the love." Xander wiped a fake tear from his eye and sniveled convincingly. Willow smacked his arm with an exasperated look on her face.

"Macnair does add a problem to the mix though," said Buffy.

"I can handle Macnair," stated Harry firmly.

"Harry what about contacting the wizarding world?" urged Giles.

"What? There are other wizards that might help?" asked Willow.

"Well, eh, yeah...but trust me Macnair isn't a problem. Also if they come they'll take everything over. They'll lock us in the house and say we're just kids and the adults should handle it." Harry shrugged his shoulders. That might not be true in he and Buffy's case, but Xander and Willow would be excluded, considered defenseless muggles. Ox would be considered a monster, almost as bad as Macnair.

"Is that a bad thing?" inquired Joyce. The young people in the room raised their eyebrows.

"Mom!" Buffy complained.

"Well, if there are adult wizards who can take care of that crazy wizard why shouldn't we call them." Joyce set her lip in a firm line. Buffy closed her eyes and tried to think of an excuse.

"Mrs. Summers, I know you are worried, but trust me. I won't let Macnair hurt anyone, and I _am_ an adult wizard." Harry nodded his head firmly, but Joyce's face was still clouded over with doubt. Giles also didn't seem to know what to make of his confidant nephew. Harry had said this man had killed one of his friends. Buffy had told him that Harry was capable...but? He'd just have to trust him. But, why in matters of life and death was it so hard to trust?

"Well it seems like it is Macnair's plan to open the hellmouth," stated Harry, distancing himself from their previous discussion.

"You think if you can get to him, you can stop him from working his mojo." Buffy nodded her head following along with what Harry was thinking.

"Yeah, and if we can stop hell from being opened onto Earth, I figure we can handle the rest. But first we get to Macnair." Buffy nodded in agreement.

"If we get close enough can you do that popping thing, you know where you just disappear and reappear?"

"Yeah, I'd just like to know where he is so that I don't walk into to anything...unpleasant." Buffy nodded.

"We can keep most of his minions busy...but with these numbers some might slip by."

"That's fine. Where is this hellmouth, inside? Outside?" asked Harry.

"Inside, it was under where the library was...but with all the damage..." Buffy shrugged.

"If I get into trouble I'll just conjure sunlight, seems to work pretty well." Buffy's eyes narrowed.

"You can _make_ sunlight...that is sooooo unfair!" Her outrage was obvious, she pursed her lips and pouted. Harry smirked and she finally shook her head in an annoyed gesture.

-

Joyce watched in some concern and amusement as her daughter and a young man she had only met a little over a week ago planned a battle with such ease and confidence. Watching the two of them seem to read the other's mind was odd in people so young. She tilted her head and watched her daughter for a moment. It was disconcerting for her, as a mother, to see how adept her daughter was at strategy. Not that Joyce thought women were inept when it came to warfare, but Buffy was still so young. She realized with a pang of sadness that this ease had no doubt been forged over time. How many attacks, missions or perhaps even wars, had her daughter organized and fought, all without her knowledge. As she watched a part of Joyce was proud. But another part of her was shamed, not ashamed of Buffy, but of herself. How could she have not been there for her daughter? Buffy _had_ tried to keep it hidden, and although that had hurt, Joyce had come to understand the reasons behind her daughter's deception. But could she forgive her own stupid denial. Buffy's words echoed in her head.

" _Open your eyes, Mom. What do you think has been going on for the past two years? The fights, the weird occurrences. How many times have you washed blood out of my clothing, and you still haven't figured it out?_"

Joyce shook slightly remembering those words. It had been a year ago...but the words still cut.

Well she was going to be a part of her daughter's life now. Her whole life.

Yet as she watched her daughter's face, she couldn't help but wonder, or perhaps hope, that some of the ease and comfort came from the young man on her right. Maybe, she'd never fully understand this part of her daughter's life. It was a sad fact she might have to face. But, she was glad that there was someone who could.

-

The troops were organized. Buffy had been surprised when her mom volunteered to come. It had actually taken awhile to convince the elder Summers that her presence might be more of a distraction than an aide.

They had decided to attack a little over an hour before sunrise, this would give the vampires a short window of time, which gave the good guys a slight advantage. Vampires tired less easily than humans, a long fight wouldn't help the Scoobies. Also, there was a chance that they might keep a few vampires busy enough to not sense the nearing sun. Harry used this time to go over any spells Macnair might use. Largely these were the Unforgivables. The gang were properly terrified of the Cruciatus Curse, as well as the Avada Kedavra. (Although Xander hadn't been able to avoid joking how much the muggle 'magical word' Abracadabra sounded like the fearsome death curse.) But, to Harry confusion, the gang didn't seem to be taking the Imperius Curse very seriously.

"No, it's complete and total control, the caster can make you do anything," warned Harry a little more firmly this time.

"Yeah, but no lasting effects right," questioned Willow.

"Well," Harry paused, "If you consider being forced to murder all your friends _not_ a lasting effect, than yeah."

Pause.

"Okay, that's bad," said Buffy with a shiver. Harry nodded.

"It can be fought, but you have to have a great strength of will," advised Harry.

"Can we ugh, practice it?" asked Willow. Harry closed his eyes.

Could he cast a true Unforgivable? After his one failed attempt at the Ministry, Harry had only cast one other dark spell. It had been the spell Hermione had found, it had been the spell he cast on Voldemort, and it was still tugging at him now. Could he cast more dark magic?

"No," whispered Harry softly, almost regretfully.

"Well we'll just have to use our shields, right guys," encouraged Buffy. Everyone lifted their respective shields and held them firmly. Willow had been the one to suggest they charm the shields to individuals. Or, actually she had asked Harry if it was possible as she still wasn't certain about the limits of Harry's magic. This guaranteed that no vampires could snag a shield to protect themselves from Harry. The charm also had the unique effect of throwing someone across the room if they tried to touch a shield that didn't belong to them, or so Buffy had learned...the hard way.

Harry watched his new found friends as they held their shields. Most of them had a worried look on their faces. Harry could understand why. They had never faced magic like his before. It was one thing to be intrigued by Harry's 'magic tricks,' it was another thing to face a dark wizard who would use terrible magic against them with restraint. Buffy was nodding head softly, remembering everything Harry had told her about dodging magic.

"I'll take care of Macnair don't worry," Harry voice reached across the room. Buffy raised her head and smiled.

"We know you can Harry." Buffy's words were encouraging and somehow Harry felt a little stronger after she had said them.

Buffy and Harry had decided a portkey would be the best form of travel. That way they could get there quickly and all of them together. Upon Giles's request, Harry had also made individual portkeys back. It was really a rather ingenious idea, if anyone was hurt and had to leave, they only had to do was tug on a pendant around their neck and say "Giles's Flat." Joyce had finally been content in staying behind when she learned she might help anyone who was injured. Harry helpfully conjured a pile of bandages, pulled some pain relieving potions from his trunk, a few bottles of the 'cruciatus cure' he had given to Buffy, as well a few spare Phoenix tears kept in jewel-like bottles, these he warned were only to be given in cases of extreme injury. All and all the medical supplies covered a full table, and they didn't seem to lighten anyone's spirits.

"Ready?" Harry asked. He held out a small pillow which he had turned into the portkey.

"Yep," replied Buffy grimly.

Giles nodded his head. A stake in one hand and the shield in the other.

"Make with the mojo," agreed Xander. He fingered the sword he'd been given.

"Umm, hmm," mumbled Willow with a nod.

Oz tipped his head to Harry.

"Go." Angels voice seemed the seal the situation. Harry activated the portkey, with a rush he felt the familiar tug at he navel and the world blurred. Harry blinked, the trip had been quick. He shook his head, and tried to breathe deeply. Looking around he noticed that only he, Buffy, Oz, and Angel were still standing. But the remaining scoobies quickly jumped up. Xander eyed the former portkey with something close to loathing.

"Okay, next time I'll walk," he stated.

But Harry wasn't listening. An intense wave of magic, almost searing hot, and at the same time bitterly cold, was blasting against him. He felt it batter against his own magical core. Part of his magical core recoiled slightly, the other burst to life feeling like a firework was going off under his skin. He tried to calm his magic, but the sweeping foreign influence was so great he could barely tell where he was.

"Hhh, cuhf, cough," Harry's breathe came in sudden gasps as he wheezed, drawing attention to his problem.

"Harry are you alright?" Giles peered down at his nephew. The boy had closed his eyes and seemed to trying to catch his breathe. Giles looked up at Buffy worriedly.

"This has never happened before," she said nervously.

"Uh, Buffy?" Xander voice interrupted their conversation.

"Not now Xander." Buffy also moved closer to the young wizard. "Harry, you okay," she asked nervously.

Harry raised a hand and waved it at Buffy and Giles, a gesture seeming to say that he'd be fine but, he shook violently afterward making the gesture hardly believable.

"Ummm, Buffy," said Xander again.

"Not now. Harry, are you gonna be okay?"

"BUFFY!" yelled Xander.

"WHAT!" she yelled back, turning to face her friend, irritation written plainly on her face.

"Umm, them." Xander pointed his hand, but Buffy didn't need the gesture. Her face had already paled. Standing not twenty feet behind them, encircling the school, was the most massive army of vampires she had ever seen. And, not just vampires. Scattered among the undead were demons, some of whom looked very fierce. But, perhaps the thing that chilled Buffy the most, was a slender man in black robes, his eyes glinting softly in the dark, and a smile. A smile that was cold. Buffy stepped back slightly.

"Harry?" she said softly. Her face remained forward but her eyes flickered for a moment, at the wizard by her side. Harry had dropped to his knees and was holding his head in his hand, struggling with his breathing. Buffy felt a bubbling panic rise in her gut. She _couldn't _do this without Harry. With him she had felt secure...but this?

"Interesting," a cool voice said. Buffy's head jerked. She raised her shield and shot a look at Giles. Macnair had appeared not five feet away, she hadn't even seen him move. But as she surveyed him, she noticed that he wasn't even looking at her. It was almost as if he didn't even see any of the others present, his eyes were locked on Harry. A wave of fury mingled with the anxiety in her gut. This was the man that had taken such pleasure in torturing her and Harry, and who knew how many others. She fought the urge to get closer and attack him physically. Harry's lecture about wands being like guns ran in her head. She had to keep a distance to dodge. Once again the anxiety blanketed the anger. They needed Harry to stand a chance against Macnair.

"I had thought you'd feel a reaction, _Harry. _It took me forever to understand what spell you had used. But now I know." Harry's head jerked up. His eyes flickered but didn't open. Something of what Macnair said seemed to have penetrated into Harry's mind.

"You laughed when I brought you before him. I wondered if you had broken." Macnair's voice was quiet, but Buffy heard every word. Giles too leaned forward a frown upon his face.

"But you hadn't. You never have. And you thanked me. Do you recall, it was said bitterly but still with gratitude. You thanked me for cutting into your _left_ arm, had I used your right I would have cut through that invisible wand and holder you had attached so cleverly. And I never sensed your deceit, never knew. Nor did my Master. Cunning worthy of a Slytherin, and a desperate one at that."

-

Rupert Giles had only a fleeting knowledge of what Macnair was talking about. But he didn't need to know. More than anything he felt a growing horror raise in his stomach. Giles had been tortured himself, he knew what meant to never break. It wasn't a noble thing that most imagined. It had nothing to do with strength or toughness. There was no shame in breaking when subjected to incredible pain. Because in the end, all that 'not-breaking' meant was that you were left with a mangled body and a mind on the edge of madness. And yet, Harry and so many like him, had and would never break.

-

Harry was going through every mediation Dumbledore had taught him, even the really stupid ones. In truth he'd always considered all the old man's advice on magic control to be a little foolish. He'd always managed just fine with simply focusing, or running through Occlumency exercises. But he could suddenly sense his magical core more intensely than he had ever imagined possible. And, said magical core felt as if it was ripping in two.

Which wasn't surprising consider he had two magical cores fused together, rather unpleasantly.

Harry mind was getting kinda fuzzy, he vaguely felt his knees hit the slick grass and a new voice intruded. It wasn't Buffy or Giles's concerned voices but rather an icy voice he knew all too well. He was suddenly rather happy that he couldn't really understand. But words did flit across his mind as he fought for control.

"I thought...reaction, _Harry._ Understand...spell you used...I know."

Harry couldn't help but respond. How could Macnair know? But Harry knew he did. Amidst the confusion of his mind, Harry's memories became strangely clear.

-

He had stood before Lord Voldemort in the Chamber of Secrets. He'd been shaking, wracked with pain form his time in Macnair's torture chamber. Bastard. But he felt a secret strength burn within him. Strapped to his right arm, his wand arm, was the invisible wand holster Remus and the Order had given him, and inside said holster was his wand, Phoenix feather, holly, eleven inches. He watched Lucius Malfoy standing at Voldemort's right. The man laughed and twirled the wand he had retrieved from Harry earlier mockingly. Did they honestly think he was foolish enough to walk into Voldemort's lair with only one wand? They were the fools. Fools, because they had failed to see that the game had changed. This wasn't a mission of heroics, this wasn't Harry being the brave little boy he had _always _been. This was about vengeance. And with vengeance, there is always a little madness. For, vengeance, revenge, these things aren't justice. But Harry Potter, the hero of the Light, had reached a point where he wondered if there would ever be complete justice for a man like Voldemort. Would his death suffice? Would the Dementor's Kiss be any solace? Harry hadn't ever really known. But, Hermione was dead. Ron dead. Sirius dead. Remus dead. So many others that his eyes were dry, he had nothing left to give.

But Hermione, one of Voldemort's latest victims had found a spell in a book. She had chosen this punishment, and it seemed only fair that Harry dole it out. Did it matter that it was dark magic?

Harry had laughed then. It was a laughter that chilled him, for it so reminded him of his nightmares. A high shrill laugh, and then a burst of green light. The thought steadied him. He turned to Macnair who stood silently behind him. Harry had nodded his head in thanks. He'd raised his mutilated arm to Voldemort and the Dark Lord seemed to admire Macnair's work. He had opened his mouth to say something, later Harry would always slightly wonder what Voldemort had been about to say, what mocking banter was he about to offer. Harry would never know. For while Voldemort had been smiling in victory, Harry had twitched his wrist and in a single breathe his wand was extended and a curse had left his lips.

"Veneficus Nex"

It was the spell Hermione had found, and it's black light ripped through Voldemort like a cleaver.

But, it wasn't Voldemort's screams Harry heard as the curse struck. Rather it was Hermione's voice.

"I found a spell..." he voice had trailed off for a moment as if afraid to go on. But she pushed her fear aside. "It's called Venficus Nex, Magical Death. It pulls the magical core from a wizard, rips it out in the most painful way possible. Once the spell is cast, magical beings can't live without their magic. He'd die slowly, feeling every bit of pain he'd subjected us to. Isn't that fair?"

Harry hadn't answered Hermione then. He'd been too horrified by the excitement in her voice. Later, she gave him a copy of the spell, but they had never spoken of it again. A few days later she was dead.

But, Hermione hadn't known everything about the spell. Harry and the Deatheaters present had watched in a detached fascination as a ball of red magic leaked from Voldemort's chest, leaving the wizard crying out in pain, and panting desperately. Harry expected the magic to dissipate, to explode maybe...but instead the ball of light smashed into his own chest with impossible speed. Soon Harry's own body felt as if it were on fire. His own magical core was fusing itself to Voldemort's, absorbing the new magical energy.

Harry screamed. Magic exploded out from his body, and the Chamber of Secrets collapsed around him.

-

"Harry, can you hear me," Buffy voice pleaded into his ear. In the fog of his mind, Harry somehow picked up on the desperation in her voice. He clenched his jaw and pushed aside the turmoil that was ripping through him.

Harry stood, his action more graceful than Buffy might have imagined from his previous position. His eyes were still closed. But suddenly he was speaking, and Buffy released a silent sigh of relief. If Harry was on their side, she could handle these vamps.

"Do you really expect me to be afraid of you," hissed Harry. Giles paused at hearing his nephew's tone. It was one he had heard once before, after the boy had awoken from a violent nightmare. A mixture between the boy's naturally warm voice and a sharper, cold one. Giles couldn't help but cringe slightly.

"Decided to join--" But Macnair's words were silenced.

"I killed your master, do you expect me to fear a lone deatheater, Walden Macnair?"

"You did more than kill him," voiced Macnair, an odd light in his eyes.

"That's right, I did." At Harry's words, the young man's eyes opened. And, rather then the usually cool green depths, they seemed to burn with an odd fire. They were red, but not the sickly red that Voldemort's eyes had been. Harry's eyes burned with a red raw power that made even those surrounding him draw back. Giles witnessed this with a feeling that a pit had opened in his stomach.

"Dear god, The lumière d'enfer," said Giles softly. He took a deep breathe.

"Giles?" Willow leaned into the watcher. "What did you say?"

"He's...there _is_ a prophecy, La Lumière d'Enfer. The Light of Hell. I...I didn't know..." But Giles silenced as Macnair spoke again.

"So Harry, you're going to stop me for all that is good and pure, are you now?"

"I'm going to stop you," Harry voice was growing colder by the moment.

"You don't even know why, do you?" Macnair's voice sounded strangely human. The cold calculating look left his eyes and he watched Harry with something close to pride. But that wasn't right. It was deeper than pride, darker than any satisfaction.

"Carsten, The rest you handle the Slayer and her fellows, come Harry. Catch me if you can."

"My pleasure," said the blonde vampire by his side.

With a pop Macnair disappeared. A low growl escaped Harry's lips and he was gone as well.

Buffy took a deep breathe. So Harry had done his part, she surveyed the gathered vampires and demons. She's just have to stay alive for awhile. No problem. She gave a swift glance to those standing beside her. Angel was ready, she never had to worry about him. Xander's face had lost it's jocular glow, rather his eyes had narrowed and he held a sword at neck level. Both Oz and Willow stood side by side, cross in one hand and a stake in the other. They were ready. Yet, when Buffy glanced at her normally poised Watcher, she found him pale and shaky. He turned to her with something akin to desperation in his eyes.

"Buffy, we have to get to Harry," said Giles, a panicked tone in his voice.

"But, what about the whole game plan thing. Harry fights magic dude, then comes back and conjures sun. Good plan Giles, you were there."

"Buffy, I was wrong, there is a prophecy. Harry can't do this on his own. We HAVE to get to him." Buffy's eyes widened. She gazed out into what amounted to a sea of vampires separating her and Harry.

"But Giles...how?"

-

-

A/N: Thank you much for your patience. The cruelty of end of semester essays have descended upon me, and add to that the fact that I was nice and lengthened this chapter a bit, hence longer wait. (On the plus side, anyone who wants to know about gender roles in Ovidan legend let me know...smiles) But I hope you enjoyed and please review. The end is nigh. As I've told some people I'm considering a sequel, let me know if you'd be interested.

(Also has anyone had any trouble with the site lately? this took me a few hours to upload. hmmmmm)

Also the quote Joyce is remembering is not my work, but rather the work of the brilliant writers of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

Della


	17. Battle's End

Chapter 17: Battle's End

"Giles slow down, what's going on?" asked Willow. The group watched with some tension as the vampires began to slowly approach.

"There is a prophecy. I didn't know...did you know he'd killed Voldemort...?" Giles turned to Buffy.

"No...I didn't," Buffy shook her head.

"Explains some things though," commented Xander catching onto the tail end of their conversation.

"Like why he thought he could defeat Macnair, what is the servant when he already beat the master," Giles shook his head.

"Uh, _now_ really isn't the time to talk," Angel yelled as he struck back an approaching vampire.

"Right," Buffy said. She stepped forward and stood next to Angel. She raised an eyebrow at the vampire across from her. It was the blonde from earlier, the one whose jaw she'd busted...however judging by the way he was smiling it wasn't busted now. She held the stake in the left hand and shield in the right, with a quick motion she jabbed at the vampire's heart. The blonde vamp swerved, leaning back and putting pressure on his heels. Using the momentum, the vampire leaped in the air and sent a kick at Buffy's neck. Thinking quickly, the slayer raised the gold shield Harry had given her. She had only intended the metal shield to block the vampire's kick, but couldn't help but smile in surprise when the vampire's foot stopped inches from the metal shield, the vampire's body flung a few feet away, landing in pile of awkward limbs.

"That's cool," commented the slayer. She eyed the shield speculatively. "Hey Giles, you said we need to get to Harry right?"

"Quicker the better," shouted Giles as he battled his own vampire.

"I got an idea."

-

-

It was easy to follow Macnair. His magical trail reeked of Voldemort. Few Deatheaters had known how much the Mark would alter them. Harry knew. He had Voldemort's magic simmering through his veins. And, there were few wizards alive who had bonded to their magic the way Voldemort had. Some wizards, like Dumbledore, had bonded into their magic naturally over time. It was true that as most wizards grew older, they gained more power. Most of the time it was almost unnoticeable, but for a few, age brought them massive amounts of new power. Voldemort had never been the patient type. Dark rituals had burned Voldemort's soul into his magic, making him more powerful but forever binding him to his magical core. Harry still seemed to possess fragments of that soul, memories...whatever you wanted to call it. He'd dream about them if he wasn't careful. But through that connection, he knew almost all that could be known about the Dark Mark, at least now after its creators demise. That tattoo didn't go into his follower's skin, it burned into their very magic. Now that Harry had been close enough to Macnair, he'd have been able to follow him to hell and back.

And, Hell happened to be where they were going.

The ground beneath his feet seemed to burn with magic. His skin crackled with the energy, sparks of magic flaring in his fingertips. It was intoxicating, a rush unlike anything he'd ever felt. A somewhat quieter voice in the back of his mind warned him that this was what Dumbledore had spoken of.

"_Opening your magical core, altering it, Harry you've opened a door. One I don't we are meant to. You'll have to be careful, you'll be more open to outside influences...you mustn't let it become too much, you won't like the consequences."_ The old man's words echoed in his head.

A voice spluttering like fire told him that the old man didn't know what he was talking about, there was only power. Power was all that mattered. No matter where it came from. Harry's eyes gazed sideways and narrowed as he realized that Voldermort's magic seemed to approve of him, seemed to be proud of Harry and how he had come upon so much more power.

No.

"Harry, what do you think?" Macnair's voice intruded the inner argument that Harry was starting. What did he think? He wasn't currently sure. Things were a little muddled. Still, as his glowing eyes met Macnair's blank ones he felt a swift burning of rage.

"I won't let you do it. This will stop." His voice was like his mind, a wavering tone that switched between anger and cold control.

"Hmm, are you sure Harry." Macnair leaned forward, as if trying to look closer into Harry's eyes. He watched the boy's face with a somewhat anxious attachment. "I know you're in there somewhere." Macnair ground the words out slowly, continuing to watch Harry. Harry drew back from Macnair's close inspection. His wand raised in his hand with a smooth motion.

"_Stupefy_," he said. A red bean shot from his wand, but so much power was restrained in the spell that the light seemed more like a solid mass. Macnair quickly cast a shield charm, but he was pushed backward from the force. A smile lit his face.

"Really now, a _stunning spell_, that isn't what I'm looking for from you. I had thought you'd care more. Harry–"

"_Expelliarmus_," shouted Harry. Once again Macnair spun out of the way. "_Incarcerous_" responded Harry. Thick roped wrapped around Macnair's legs, but the wizard shot a loosening spell and jumped out of the ropes that had been twisting up his knees.

"Alive, you imagine you can stop me while I still live? I didn't think you were such a fool. I will never stop. I will always follow you, if for no other reason than to make that muggle girl scream again. Music Harry, not quite as fine as you...but still, music." Macnair was forced into silence while he made a quick twist to the left to avoid a blood boiling hex, cast directly at his head.

"Better Harry, better." He muttered under his breath, turning to face the boy. For a boy was what he still was, only the boy, unless _he_ could be brought out.

Harry wasn't listening anymore. He was shaking in anger. Foreign dark magic still buffeted him, as if he were standing in a raging river. His wand let curses fly. Cutting curses, ripping hexes, bone breaking spells, and as time went by his magic became steadily darker. He began to forget why he was fighting. The Hellmouth was forgotten. Buffy and Giles were gone from his mind. He was merely a whirlwind of magic intent of fighting, intent on bringing as much harm to Macnair as he could. He unleashed a painful spell that, had it hit, would have ripped Macnair's heart from his chest. But the wizard was amazingly quick. He should have expected it. Macnair never bragged like the others, nor took part in the mock duels so many of his Deatheaters had. He'd always been more quiet and he's respected that about him. A true Slytherin. Why were they fighting again? He paused and examined the air around him. Macnair was breathing heavily. He watched him for a moment. Blood leaked from his shoulder, down his hand, dripping onto the floor. One of his cutting curses must have grazed him. It was quite obvious that he wouldn't be able to keep up his current level of dodging and ducking. Macnair was being beat by nothing other than time. It was over.

"Master?" Macnair's voice leaked out from him filled with a desperate kind of hope.

"Master?" the word fluctuated in tone. It seemed familiar to be called such, and at the same time terribly wrong and unnatural.

"I'm– " Harry recoiled internally, but couldn't seem to make his body respond. He wasn't out of control, it wasn't like the Imperius curse. He felt like something was weighing his conscious mind down, as if something bigger and stronger was smothering him. His mind flickered by quickly, examining his current situation. He watched Macnair.

"You never intended to open the Hellmouth." His voice seemed slightly foreign, colder.

"Never, why would I? I lied to the beasts. I'd have no place in hell."

"I'm certain you'd fit in quite nicely, Macnair. You also seem to slither into a situation that suits you." Macnair bowed his head, Harry noted a smile flicker across the man's face.

"_Stupefy_," cast Harry, but Macnair still seemed to be on edge. He moved with barely enough time to keep the red light from striking his head.

"I see Potter isn't suppressed yet, but you shall overcome him my lord." Macnair's words were spoken with a fervor.

Harry shook his head at the fool. Macnair, the able follower, wanted his Master back. He had discovered what spell Harry had used and assumed that the Dark Lord lay dormant in the boy. But he was wrong. Voldemort's magic still existed, as did a few memories. But the Dark Lord was dead. Yet, without knowing it Macnair had awakened something, not Voldemort but perhaps something else, a part which Harry had spent a great deal of time keeping buried. The part that had been constantly belittled by the Dursleys, the part that had been ridiculed by Hogwart's student and staff. The part who listened to his mothers final cries. A thing fueled by all the pain he'd experienced and never given into, guided by Voldemort's knowledge of magic perhaps. But, Macnair had no idea what he was doing.

-

-

If you had an ariel view of area surrounding the Hellmouth, which was currently under a blackened school, you would find the current activity to be one of great interest. If you didn't have an ariel view...well you'd probably be picked off pretty quickly. A massive army of vampires and demons surrounded the former highschool. But a strange bunch of people, surrounded by a dark glint of gold seemed to be pushing through the standing army rather easily. Whenever one of the darker creatures grew too near, a strange force seemed to act to push them away. Some adventurous vampires had tried running toward it at great speed, but the strange force seemed to double whatever speed they'd approached at, flinging them even farther. A few smarter vampires used their agility and jumped over the strange shielding only to leave a trial of dust behind as group moved on.

"This was a great idea," shouted Xander above the roar of their frustrated enemy. Xander was positioned on the left, holding his shield. Giles was upholding the right side of their box formation, his shield capping that end. Buffy and Angel also helped uphold the sides, but spent most of their time with stake or sword in hand slaying the vampires who got past the shields. Willow and Oz used their shields to complete the box. Oz had been assigned as front man, his werewolf strength was coming in handy for plowing through the vampires and demons, even if the magic shield did most of the work. Willow gladly agreed to be in back. She prevented the vampires from flanking them splashing some of Giles's holy water at the more persistent.

"What can I say, I'm a genius." added Buffy with a smug smile as she beheaded one vampire in midair.

"It's a phalanx!" agreed Giles. His voice slightly less bookish than normal. He smiled slightly as he watched their group continue to cut through the vampire lines.

"A what! That doesn't sound clean," Buffy shot her watcher a confused look.

"This, this structure was used in the Ancient Greek military. Of course they had regular shields, not magical ones, and used spears to keep opponents back but–"

"Yeah, yeah less talking more running," advised Willow as the group stumbled for a minute.

"Eh, right," agreed Giles. That was the tricky bit. They all had to move like one organism, and this certainly wasn't something they had practiced. Giles and Xander were almost back to back, walking as fast as they could while keeping their torsos turned to the side. Buffy and Angel were crammed in the center, watching for incoming vampires and moving their shields as needed to guard the sides. Willow really had the worst of it, she had to walk backwards, and very fast. It was a difficult thing to work. But, Buffy smiled slightly, it certainly was a testament of how well they could work together when they needed to.

"Are we going to lead them into the building?" asked Angel. He examined the vampires who were following them.

"That doesn't sound like a good plan," shouted Willow from the rear.

"I think the doors on the west side are still standing," suggested Oz.

"Yeah, if we head there, we might be able to get inside and shut them out...for a bit. They'll still get in...too many holes in the building...but it might give us some time to get to Harry." Buffy nodded her head as she spoke. The others quickly agreed. They needed a moment to breathe.

The formation headed for the west end of the building. Geographically this end of the building was furthest from the library and the Hellmouth, but the vampires didn't know the high school as well as Buffy and the others did. There was a small hallway that linked the two. It was mostly just for the boiler room, electrical utilities, and administration offices but it was still standing last time they checked. It should lead them right to the entrance of the library.

The gang scuttled to a halt before the doors, breaking up the formation to create one solid line that kept the vampires back while Buffy broke through the door that was still standing. They backed inside and Angel found a beam, no doubt from the now shaky ceiling, and braced the door which Buffy had jammed shut. A furious bang hit the metal door as the army of vampires vented their frustration. But, if these doors had held solid after an explosion, it could outlast demonic assault, for a little bit anyway.

"That's not gonna last forever," advised Xander. The others all nodded.

"Well let's get to Harry then, what exactly is this Prophecy?" Buffy asked. She and the other had already started walking, cutting through the charred debris that blocked their path, yet she turned back to her watcher with a raised brow.

"Well, it's about the 'La Lumière d'Enfer', an old French prophecy. Recited by a well known–"

"Back on track," interrupted Buffy.

"Ah yes, La Lumière d'Enfer, en le temps–"

"Giles I failed French!" Buffy interrupted again.

"Sorry, ummm. Well La Lumière d'Enfer translates as 'The Light of Hell'. It's really a historically curious--"

"I'm not getting any younger here," complained Buffy as she flung a rather large piece of what was once the roof out of their way.

"Oh bloody hell, fine." Giles paused in his movements for a moment and tried to remember the wording. Bloody French, why hadn't he studied more French as a child. He'd been learning ancient Egyptian instead. "The first bit goes something like, '_Out of the...eh, darkness, yes. A hero will rise_." Giles nodded falling into a rhythm.

"_He shall strike down the foe that opposes him,_

_In victory and despair he shall travel to a distant place_.

_where the last of his blood dwells_,"

"So Harry's the hero," speculated Willow thoughtfully.

"If he beat Voldemort, than he defeated his foe," Giles nodded.

"And they got the travel bit right," agreed Willow. "But in despair, poor Harry." The red head shook her head sympathetically. Buffy bit her lip, Harry certainly had come here escaping from the pain of his own home.

"Last of Blood, that is I. It even specifies that I'm a watcher, I'm such a dunce, I should have picked up on that... _where the last of his blood dwells as _

_A guardian for the daughter of death and dust."_

"Daughter of Death and Dust?" Buffy frowned.

"Every ancient culture had a different name for the slayer. Often in the days before the Watchers Council was as organized, sometimes Slayers might slip through the cracks. A girl would just get amazing abilities and she'd fight the vampires without knowing all the rhetoric that has been developed. Thus the Slayer has many names, in France, before the times of the Renaissance, she was called the Daughter of Death and Dust." Buffy was reflective for a moment. She'd never thought about all that.

"But Death and Dust? Sounds like a homicidal maid," commented Buffy.

"Hee, hee, cough...ummm, did anyone else just get a fun image of Buffy in French maid costume?" The other people in the party stopped and looked at Xander.

"Umm, neither did I," covered Xander hastily.

"Anyway," continued Giles, "_At the mouth of hell the sinner will tempt with pain_,"

"We're at the Hellmouth...and the sinner is Macnair?" questioned Willow. "What about the pain bit?"

"Trust me, the guy likes his pain," stated Buffy, plainly leaving no room for argument.

"Well the next bit is the one that has worried people for centuries.

'_And the hero will be the light of hell._

_The light of hell, will either burn the world_

_or, he will act as a light amid darkness_

_But darkness will triumph, and light fall_,_'_ "

"What! That can't be it, Macnair can't win?" Willow stuttered. "There must be a way out..."

"There is," appeased Giles. "The last line gives some hope but only is we get to Harry in time. _But darkness will triumph, and light fall,_

_If not for the love of blood and dust._" Giles turned to Buffy. Her large eyes looked up and him.

"Blood and Dust? That's you and me right?" She turned away and flung more debris from their path.

"I assume so." Giles watched his Slayer as she continued to work with Angel clearing the larger debris and flinging it behind them to obstruct the path in case any vampires might break through. She seemed to be involved in some thought and he wondered what could have distracted her during a battle. Sticky situations usually made her very focused. He hoped his talk of prophecies hadn't rekindled memories of her own prophecy and subsequent death.

But that wasn't what occupied Buffy's mind.

-

"Macnair," Harry's voice echoed in the chamber of the ellmouth. "Your Master is dead. He doesn't exist in me."

"No," Macnair's voice was filled with certainty. "He isn't dead. I can see him in your eyes."

"My eyes." Harry stood for a moment. His body didn't move but the light in his eyes grew even brighter. Macnair drew back slightly, his shadow cast on the wall behind him as the glow of light grew. The former Deatheater began to laugh softly under his breath. He had seen it too late. He took another step back. His hands trembled, eyes widening. Without knowing it Harry had ended standing directly over where the Hellmouth stood. And even Macnair's limited magical sight could see the power that poured around him. It was painful, so painful it was beautiful. The rumble of laughter grew spilling from Macnair.

"There is only one way this will end." Harry's words seemed to hiss from him like steam. He was tired of holding this all back. Tired, so bloody tired and there was no reason to hold on any longer. He'd kill Macnair, and he'd kill others and the bloodshed would never end. It would never be justice. There was no justice. That word was reserved for people who were still hopeful or naive enough to believe such a thing existed. If there had been any justice he would have died in May with Ron and Hermione. He would have finally been able to rest.

Was there really no rest for the wicked?

"Harry!" a voice cut across his mind like a scalpel. He turned his head to see a troupe of figures quickly emerging from a large whole in the wall from an area above him. He imagined that it might have once been a door. He stared at the group for a moment trying to see them clearly through the rich magical haze that flittered across his vision like fireworks. Harry spun in shock when a bright green light blasted over his shoulder toward the figures.

-

"Duck!" Buffy yelled. She sprang forward and slammed Giles to the ground as a bolt of green light exploded over their heads.

"Was that what I think it was?" questioned Xander from a crouched position behind some burned rubble.

"I'm guessing that was the death curse thingy," agreed Willow. She had also ducked out of the way, her head bowed.

"Anyone see Harry?" Giles asked as he and Buffy crawled toward the others.

"He's just standing there," answered Angel. The vampire peered out and then quickly moved back when a red light shot toward his head. Giles cautiously peeked out as well. He spotted Harry standing in the center of the room. His hands flexed at his side almost as if his fingers had grown stiff. Giles bit his lip as he tried to assess the situation. Buffy's eyes flashed around the room and he could only presume that she was doing the same thing.

Harry was facing Macnair, she could only see the side of his face and desperately wished she could read the expression on it. There was something wild in his face, something that reeked of power. He didn't look like himself. His wand was raised.

"Honestly Potter!" yelled Macnair to the assembled room. "I thought you had learned, I thought the dark lord had taught you something." Macnair's voice broke in laughter, the noise echoed in the explosion blackened room. "You made the same mistake, the very same mistake. You made friends, and I'll just take them from you one by one. Muggles even, they aren't even a challenge." Macnair raised his wand. "_Accio._" The word didn't make any sense to the Scoobies. But its meaning soon became clear. Willow began to yell as a strange force seemed to grab her and begin dragging her toward the center of the room where the two wizards stood.

"Willow!" both Oz and Xander yelled at the same moment. The werewolf wrapped his arms around the small wicca but whatever magic was tugging at her didn't seem to be denied. She just continued to slip through Oz's grasp. Buffy ran forward to assist. But before she was there a pop sounded loudly and Willow let out an agonized cry, Oz quickly let go. The red head flew to Macnair's feet, clutching her arm with a pain-filled expression. She landed a few feet away from the wizard with a slight thump and braced herself, a forced look of bravery settling on her face. With her good arm she raised the shield Harry had given her.

"Willow!" Buffy ignored her own concern about Macnair and hurtled toward her friend. The others wasted no time in joining her. Oz scrambled down to Willow, he kneeled beside her his eyes wide with concern, his hands wavered over her injured arm as if afraid to touch it.

"See, like animals Harry. Running to their own slaughter."

"Listen Bub, you might be mister tough guy where you come from but I'm the slayer. And this town isn't big enough for the both of us." Buffy stood firmly before Willow and the others. Her shield raised. She shot Harry a quick look before returning her gaze to Macnair.

"I couldn't have said it better myself," responded the wizard with a slight sneer. Harry hadn't moved from where he was standing. It must be the magic of the Hellmouth, concluded Buffy. She barely felt anything, she wondered what all this looked like to Harry.

"Let's have a little fun though, shall we. _Crucio_." Buffy remembered that word. Harry had told her that if it hit the shield it would radiate pain from where she held the shield. She had to be prepared for that. Unfortunately, he hadn't been aiming for her.

"AHHHHHH," Xander screamed in agony throwing his own shield to the ground, clutching his hand to his chest.

"Xander!" Buffy yelled. Her composure vanished as she watched her friend shake in pain. She noticed with an ounce of hope that Harry twitched violently where he was standing. But he wasn't coming around quick enough. Buffy leapt to her feet. She swung her shield like a weapon, aiming for Macnair's head. A burst of blue light came from his wand and Buffy was forced to change course to avoid the light. It ricocheted off her shield with a satisfying ding. She spun and landed on her feet. But she should have remembered the first rule of fighting wizards. Never get to close. She cringed in the millisecond when she realized that she had broken that rule and Macnair stood over her, his cruel smile on his face.

"_Crucio_"

Buffy gasped.

The air was knocked from her chest as a shoulder barreled into her, she stumbled her mind numb with the sound of screaming coming from behind her.

"Giles!" she yelled. Her watcher had leapt from the side taking the curse meant for her. But Macnair didn't seem to care who he had hit. He smiled, watching the older Englishman as he thrashed on the floor. Buffy and Angel both seemed to react on impulse flinging themselves toward Macnair. Giles screaming stopped as a blast of white magic hit Angel in the chest, flinging the vampire across the room. Giles breathed harshly on the floor. Buffy changed direction hoping to help her mentor. But, before she could reach him, his body once again became twisted and mangled as the painful spell took hold. Buffy growled in furry. But her eyes widened as she realized that she wasn't the only one who forgot things.

A hand darted out and clasped Macnair's neck, and as the hand made contact smoke began to rise from the skin beneath.

"No." Buffy trembled as the voice connected to the hand seemed to boil with heat. It didn't say anything else but that one word seemed to thunder through the room. Buffy felt the people behind her tense. Slowly, almost fearfully, she turned to examine the speaker. Harry really did look like the Light of Hell. His eyes glowed with an intense power that seemed to have been supercharged by the magic of the Hellmouth. His fingers tightened around Macnair's neck and the foul man seemed to tremble from some force Buffy couldn't feel. And although Buffy might not be able to identify all the magical stuff that was occurring, it was quite plain what was in fact happening.

Harry Potter, Light of Hell, whatever he was...he was killing Walden Macnair, and he was doing it slowly and painfully.

Buffy had only one thought on that. Good.

Buffy's own anger, watched with well-deserved satisfaction as Macnair continued to struggle. Wasn't he just as bad as all the monsters of the night that she battled and killed over the years? He deserved death just as readily as any demon did. Did it matter that this demon was clothed in human skin?

"Buffy..." a weak voice said her name and she felt something tug on her pant leg. She turned away from Harry and grasped Giles's hand.

"Don't worry Giles, Harry's taking care of him. Quite effectively."

"No, Buffy...he can't. Please...Buffy...stop him...the prophecy." Giles struggled with the words as his eyes gazed into hers with complete trust.

"Giles..." Buffy closed her eyes and nodded. She moved forward slowly. "Harry," she whispered his name softly. "Harry you mustn't." She shuffled to a stop when those brilliant eyes were cast upon her. There was on recognition in those fiery orbs, Buffy for the first time felt afraid.

"He must be stopped." The hot voice bubbled.

"You're right. But this isn't the way. Harry Potter knows that."

"Harry listen to her. This isn't right." Giles spoke with more strength than he possessed.

Buffy swallowed. She raised her hand and slowly reached out. She paused for a moment as she watched the dark smoke that seemed to come from Harry's grasp on Macnair. With a soft breath she let her palm press against Harry's hot skin. The touch burned for a moment and Buffy gritted her teeth but didn't let go. Yet the pain seemed to fade almost instantly. Harry's hand loosened from around Macnair's throat allowing the man to drop unconscious onto the floor. Buffy pulled Harry's hand to her cheek letting her lips brush across the burning palms as the cooled.

"Buffy?" Harry's voice whispered. The slayer turned her head and smiled as a pair of beautiful green eyes were visible once again. She hadn't realized how much she had missed them.

"Hey Harry," she replied just as softly.

"I...I almost...I did...I almost let go." Harry bowed his head shame creeping into his voice.

"Hey, no big. We'll be here to catch you." Harry's face shot upward a strange sort of amazement covering his features. He smiled.

"Bit of luck you're so strong huh."

"And don't you forget it." The two heroes smiled as they looked at each other, each unsure why they were so glad the other was there. Harry's grin grew as he alone watched the magic that swirled around them.

"Cough, eh? Guys? Don't mean to interrupt the romantic moment thing you got going but we got some company," Xander's voice brought them back to a little place called earth and more importantly the Hellmouth. It seemed the vampires and demons from outside had finally broken into the school and located the humans that had given them so much trouble. Buffy and Harry turned rapidly, back to back, they stared at what seemed to be the constant flow of dark creatures who were streaming into the former library.

"Well Mr. 'I'll just make sunlight' why don't you snap to it," teased Buffy.

"Okay," Harry nodded with a grin. He was more than ready to use the energy from the Hellmouth that had leached into his system.

"Oh...but what about..." Buffy shot a guilty glance at Angel. The vampire sighed as he watched the army grow closer and closer.

"I'll try to take cover, but don't worry about me, we've all got to go sometime and if now is–"

"Don't be so melodramatic," scolded Harry. The vampire glared at him, Harry shrugged. Angel watched in some fascination as darkness almost like a sunglass coating surrounded him. Once the Angel was safe, a bright sunlight lit the Hellmouth. The room soon became almost blinding as the other two hundred vampires in attendance bust into flame. Those nearest the door tried to escape, the demons seemed to have decided to follow the same route. Although sunlight wasn't as terminal for demons, they didn't like it, and perhaps they were somewhat intimidated seeing most of their comrades reduced to nothing more than cinders. In only a few moments the only people left in the room were a small group huddled in the center. The odd group all seemed to forget their injuries for a moment and took joy in the fact that they were all alive.

Buffy moved from where she was standing and glared down at the one villain left in the room that wasn't dust. Harry followed her gaze.

"Seems kinda empty huh," Harry shook his head as he spoke. Buffy however narrowed her eyes. With a quick movement Buffy's leg swung forward, Slayer strength evident in the speed and strength of the kick. Her foot connected sharply with Macnair's crotch. The males viewing couldn't help but cringe. Willow laughed, Oz sent her a somewhat cautious look.

"Loser," decreed Buffy as she looked down at the dark wizard. Harry smiled slightly.

"Probably best if he doesn't procreate anyway," concluded the wizard. Buffy turned away and flounced back to her watcher. She eyed Giles cautiously, measuring his health before gracing him with a blatantly deviant smile.

"Giles do you have ice cream?" Buffy asked, "I'm in the mood for something sweet."

"Chocolate?" questioned Harry. Giles rolled his eyes. The watcher reached into his shirt and pulled out a small pendant.

"Giles's Flat," he stated. In a small burst of magic Giles was whisked away back home. Buffy rolled her eyes.

"Was that a yes?"

-

-

A/N: Dear readers sorry for the longer wait, but as I'm sure you were busy with the holidays as well. I also wanted to write this chapter right. I've been planning it for so long that it was rather intimidating to actually type. I'm putting it out without the most thorough editing, but I've been terribly worried about how you will all like this chapter that I don't think I can wait much longer. Feedback is always appreciated. Just a warning, my e-mail from the site doesn't seem to be working very well (or at all) for the moment so review responses might be a tad iffy. Hope you all know I still appreciate all reviews, smiles, even the mean ones. Helps me grow.

Hope you enjoyed this,

Della


	18. Time Away

Chapter 18: Time Away

-

Buffy felt the rush of a portkey before she landed heavily in Giles's apartment. There were a few other thumps as Xander, Oz and Angel landed on the floor around her. Willow had left moments before and the red haired wicca was already being fluttered over by Buffy's mother. Oz moved from Buffy's side to sit beside Willow, an anxious look on his face. Her arm seemed to be dislocated from earlier tug-o-war between the werewolf and wizard.

"You'll probably have to go to the hospital to have it set back into place," conceded Buffy's mother. Willow smiled softly.

"You okay Will?" asked Buffy as she neared the group.

"Oh I'm fine, just peachy, ummmm peaches are good," babbled Willow with a somewhat sappy look on her face. Joyce smiled somewhat.

"I don't know what was in that pain potion that Harry left here, but whatever it is the stuff sure does the trick," stated Joyce. Buffy nodded watching as Willow preceded to move her hand in front of her face and giggle.

"Since she doesn't seem to be in any pain it might be better to wait till Harry gets back before taking her to the hospital, there might be a spell thing or something."

"Can I get any of that loopy pain medicine stuff, looks like fun," observed Xander. Buffy turned to her other best friend and noticed the way he clutched at his arms as if they ached...which they probably did. Buffy paled as she remembered Xander being held under the Cactus-curse pain thingy. She smiled and wrapped an arm around the dark haired young man.

Buffy lead Xander to the couch."Nope, Harry's got something special for you. Really does the trick." She spied a familiar vial on the table of medical supplies and handed it to Xander who eyed it warily.

"There's no eye of newt in this is there," questioned Xander.

Buffy shrugged. "Don't be such a baby."

"Baby! Baby! I'll have you know..." Xander took the vial of potion and swallowed. "ECK...ehhh I think I'd rather just take an aspirin." Xander leaned back against the pillows of the sofa. His body grew relaxed and rested his head on a pillow behind him. Joyce grabbed a spare blanket and covered him up. He smiled up at her in a tired way.

Buffy rose and backed away, watching as Willow also cuddled on the couch. Willow's arm seemed not to trouble her as she leaned onto the armrest humming slightly. Buffy's mother was buzzing around, happily seeing to all the little scraps and bumps. Everyone had come back safe and sound, a little rough and tired but still alive. Buffy bit her lip thinking how close it might have been. She always ran straight into action, and sometimes people might think she didn't think about the consequences. Really she did. And although both Oz, Willow and Xander might say that they chose this life, she knew that if anything happened to them it would be because of her. That thought terrified her sometimes. Like now, oddly enough, after a battle was already won. She felt a familiar presence behind her back and relaxed. She smiled when a bowl of ice cream was shoved under her nose.

"Thanks," she jumped and happily took the bowl, feeling very satisfied when the icy sugariness met her tongue.

"What sort of a Watcher would I be without ice cream. Hmm, that potion seems to have really put Xander under." Buffy turned back to her friends. Indeed, Xander was sprawled on the couch fast asleep. Willow was still humming, although Buffy doubted that the wicca would waste much time before following Xander into dreamland.

"Shouldn't you be taking some of that stuff mister, you were under that cactus curse too." Buffy raised her eyebrows at her watcher who shrugged in response.

"I'll be fine, want to wait for Harry...where is he?"

"Had to take care of some business, dropping of Mr. Ugly at the magical police or something," Buffy explained. Giles nodded raising a hand to his forehead and massaging his temples. Buffy frowned into her ice-cream. "You sure you're okay?"

Giles lowered his hands. "I'm so proud of you Buffy." His hazel eyes seemed somewhat misty as he spoke.

"Uhhhh," stuttered Buffy. She felt her face growing overheated as color flooded her cheeks. "I didn't do much...I mean Harry was the one who stopped the guy and fried all those vamps."

"But you stopped him from going too far. Harry mustn't kill Macnair, he's still human with a soul."

"However twisted he is..." Buffy's voice grew quiet as she paused. She looked away from her Watcher as she continued. "Giles I_ really _wanted Harry to stop Macnair, stop him so he'd never hurt me or any of my friends again. Stop him forever." Buffy closed her eyes. "I've never wanted such a thing for a human before."

"I don't think you've met many...humans, like Macnair. Hopefully you never will again."

"He really hurt us. He hurt you, Willow, Xander, me...he must have really hurt Harry...did you know he tortured Harry too. Pretty bad I think. He killed Harry's friend. I...I wonder if Harry should have killed him. Maybe I was wrong." Buffy's voice was filled with indecision.

Giles's eyes softened, he took a deep breath. "I know that feeling Buffy. But such sentiment is revenge not justice. And revenge, it leads people down a dark path. To choose revenge...it's a step in the wrong direction. Revenge can hurt those who don't deserve punishment, it is indiscriminate. You made the right choice, it's hard when the pain is glaring down at you...but deep down both you and Harry know it was the right thing." Giles voice was deep and patient, so wise. It held the strength that Buffy sometimes needed.

"You're not an idiot when you try, you know that..." Buffy smiled at the amused expression on her Watcher's face.

"Thanks Buffy, I'll take that as a compliment."

-

Ministry of Magic

-

It was a little past two in the afternoon and the Atrium had grown quiet. The lunch crowd had come and gone, now only a few people passed through on their way to the different departments, most likely to make some complaint. Bernard Barry was a security guard at the entry point. He'd failed the tests for the Auror academy but had taken the rather low risk job of scanning people as they entered the ministry. He rather liked the job. Hours weren't bad and he always seemed to know what was going on in the government, even met a few famous people. The only problem was he didn't get a good lunch hour, often he was forced to eat take-away at his desk. He had just finished checking the wand of a visitor for the Gobstone Offices and was starting back in on his lunch when the commotion started.

The apparition point in the Ministry of Magic seemed to shake for a moment, as if a ripple had passed through it. Bernard felt the hair raise on the back of his neck. With some haste he jumped to his feet, dropped his boloney sandwich, and pressed a small button on the underside of his desk which sent a magical alarm to the Auror department. The few people in the Atrium yelled and quickly ran off, some hastily flooing away.

"Bloody hell, what now?" questioned the guard as he drew his wand. Voldemort had just been defeated a few months ago...couldn't they go a year without some dark bugger attacking? The room stilled, Bernie took a breath.

Standing at the Appiration point was young, slender man, his back turned. The guard's eyes opened as he took in what appeared to be a crumpled human form at the man's feet.

"Bugger this," the guard cursed slightly. Let the Aurors handle it. Bernie quickly huddled under his desk sighing in relief when he heard the pounding of official Auror issue boots. He didn't look up until much later.

"Hold right there, place your wand on the ground," shouted Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"If you insist Kingsley," replied a somewhat amused voice. The lead Auror paused a moment, his serious face became more relaxed.

"Harry?"

"Harry!" One Auror rushed from the ranks, nearly tripping on her feet as she ran towards the young man.

"Wotcher Tonks," Harry greeted accepting Tonk's exuberant slap on the back.

"Where have you been, they were getting ready to hand you over to Missing Wizards, send out the search parties." She shook her head than playfully smacked him again.

"Yeah I'm sure the Daily Prophets in a right tizzy." Harry rolled his eyes. He watched as Kingsley masked his surprise and like Tonks left the ranks and approached Harry, if at a more sedate pace. A few other Aurors followed their commander, some looking slightly awestruck.

"Sorry about the commotion, had to force through on the end there. Felt like the wards were fighting the double apparition," explained Harry. He kicked at the object at his feet. Kingsley dropped his gaze from the young wizard and narrowed his eyes as he recognized the man lying on the shiny Ministry floor.

"Walden Macnair? I thought he was caught up in the Chamber collapse."

"So did I." Harry watched as with a quick gesture Kingsley had the other Aurors grabbing Macnair and carrying him away. Kingsley himself turned to look at Harry with a raised eyebrow.

"Found him terrorizing a California town," explained Harry.

"California...the States? What were you doing there?" Tonks looked at him curiously.

"I was visiting my uncle," replied Harry simply. Tonks's brow furrowed.

"Well, that's nice I suppose. I didn't know you had any other relatives."

"Neither did I," admitted Harry. Tonks snickered at this comment.

"You aren't...you aren't thinking about moving out there, permanent like?" Harry paused at the young metamorphmagus's question. Did he intend to settle out there? He'd never given it much thought. It was, had always just been a holiday. Yet he had felt at home there. He had family there, and Buffy. Buffy and her friends had been amazing. They never treated him as if he were some sort of freak. That level of easy comradery was something he thought had died with Ron and Hermione.

Life really does go on.

The thought came to Harry with a shock. A little guilt floated to the surface and he forced in aside.

"Hey Harry, you still there," Tonk's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Yeah..." bypassing Tonk's question for now Harry turned to Kingsley. "What are you going to do with Macnair?"

"Scrimgeour and the Wizengamot has passed some rather harsh measures against former deatheaters. Anyone bearing the mark is scheduled to be Kissed. They don't want to take the chance of anymore escapes." The dark skinned auror nodded his head in obvious approval. Harry frowned, he really didn't like dementors, but he supposed if anyone deserved to have their soul eaten up by the foul creatures, Macnair was it.

"Any accusations of being a deatheater are being taken very seriously. Down in the department of Mysteries they've figured out a spell to tell if anyone ever took the Dark Mark. Something to with magical signature disruption. Anyone accused is scanned, and if they had the Mark they're held for trial."

"Everyone is getting trials with veritaserum," assured Tonks. Harry nodded to her, glad for the information. He'd been worried the new strict measures might have inspired mistakes like the one his godfather had endured.

"Last week Narcissa Malfoy was tried and kissed the next day," revealed Kingsley.

"Narcissa?...I didn't peg her for a deatheater," said a shocked Harry. He looked to the floor. Malfoy senior had died in the Chamber collapse, now Malfoy's mom was gone. Harry couldn't help but feel a little curious about what Draco Malfoy was doing with his life. For all his posing Harry doubted the young pureblood had taken Voldemort's mark, although that had probably been Draco's goal.

"Dumbledore's been hoping to see you again soon," added Kingsley. Harry nodded in a resigned way. He'd somehow expected to visit with his old headmaster now that he was here. He wasn't looking forward to the meeting, but he had known it would occur. It was an odd assuredness. He filed away this feeling to think over later.

"Well, do you need me for anything else?" asked Harry.

"Well technically we'd need you to answer some questions, and there is some paperwork...Merlin save you if the ministry gets a hold of you. The Public Relations department has been talking about another award ceremony..." The two aurors grinned as Harry grimaced. Kingsley shook his head. The lead Auror shot Tonks a sideways glance and smiled. The young witch smiled back conspiratorially.

"Unfortunately you have a terrible habit of disappearing Harry, and considering how close you are to the apparition point, I doubt we could stop you." Kingsley spoke seriously and managed to look official, however the effect was ruined by Tonks snickering into her hand. Harry grinned and tipped his head, taking a step back he disapparited without a sound.

"How do you reckon he does that?" asked Tonks.

"Does what?" questioned a confused Kingsley.

"Just stumble in and make it seem like dealing with Dark wizards is easy?" The young Auror shook her head. Kingsley Shacklebolt however became quiet and was still for a moment.

"I don't think it's ever easy...some people just make it look that way...but it's never easy." He whispered his words into the emptying Atrium. Tonks didn't know if she really understood but nodded, her respect growing for the bespeckled teenager. She was turning to follow Kingsley when she stopped dead in her tracks.

Harry had never answered her question. Her brow furrowed, her hear-shaped face clouding with worry. Harry had to come home...he just had to. What would they do without him?

-

Meanwhile, back at the hellmouth...

-

Buffy continued to spoon herself ice cream as she gazed out the window. The sun hadn't risen yet, but a few rays of light were starting to peep over the horizon. She felt a presence by her side and turned, spoon still in mouth, to meet a pair of soft brown eyes. He stood to her left, away from the window. Angel's gaze left her face for a moment as he looked with both longing and trepidation at the open window. Taking a step forward, Buffy reached out and closed the heavy curtain.

"Sorry, forgot about the whole sunlight issue," she apologized.

"That's okay. Kinda wish I could stand here and watch the sun rise with you..." Angel's voice trailed off sadly. Buffy felt a fluttering emptiness in her stomach at Angels words. She ruthlessly snapped a lid on the feeling, refusing to acknowledge the emotion.

"Buffy--" Angel paused as the slayer shook her head.

"I know... you're not staying," Buffy turned away. She lifted her chin and refused to allow any of the moisture in her eyes to grow.

"I guess I don't need to say it." The vampire turned away.

"Why did you come here Angel," Buffy blurted. She spun and faced him, her hands on her hips. "You made it pretty clear that you were leaving...why?"

"I...I heard about the vampires coming here...I wanted to help." He lowered his eyes. "I didn't know you'd have wonder boy here."

"Wonder-... Harry?"

"Ah- Come on, who else would I mean?" Angel paused. Buffy's eyes narrowed, Angel recognized the look and hurriedly tried to explain. "I didn't mean that like it sounded."

"Well it sounded like you were jealous and we both know that you have no reason to be. You made it perfectly clear that you were leaving, that you wouldn't, couldn't be here with me," contended Buffy.

"I know–" Angel's voice cut in strongly. He dropped his hands to his sides and looked at the ground. "I know. You're right. I have...Buffy he's no good for you." Angel's gaze lifted from the floor and met Buffy squarely. He wanted to explain to her the strange vibes that were coming off Harry. He wanted to explain how she deserved so much more and that it hurt him to see her settling for less. But with one look he knew she hadn't understood.

Buffy fumed. "The last time I checked, _Harry_ hasn't tried to kill any of my friends," her accusation was spiteful and she knew it. She shifted uncomfortably as she watched Angel's shoulders tense in guilt and shame. She let out a breath.

"Look, I'm sorr–" Buffy began.

"No, you're right. I did...that is why I left. I wasn't good for you either. I wanted to be. I wanted be good for you now, for this too. But I'm not. Not really. I just want you to know...to be aware, Harry, there is a darkness in him." Angel reached a hand forward and gently held her arm. She slowly pulled from his grip and patted his hand.

"I know. I'd have to be brain dead not to see it after today. At the hell mouth, he let that magic flow out. It was like all that badness was coming out of him..."

"See Buffy, you can't–"

"But he stopped." Buffy's hazel eyes lifted to Angel's face. The vampire swallowed uncomfortably at the look of hope. His brow crinkled in sadness.

"Don't hold on like that Buffy, don't hold onto his good side. Don't let that blind–"

"Is that what you think I was, blinded? Did you think I didn't see your dark side? I saw it. I knew it." Her lips pursed in annoyance. "I wasn't blind. Harry isn't perfect but he tries. I'm not perfect either, but I try. That's what makes us good friends." She glanced up at Angel. "He is only a friend you know." Buffy gazed sideways, tilting her chin. The vampire shrugged.

-

-

Hogwarts loomed ahead, still beautiful it's own way. It was hardly the sanctuary it had always been when Harry was young. Coming to Hogwarts had always been coming home for Harry Potter. He'd never been able to understand the subtle bouts of homesickness that Ron and Hermione had displayed in their younger years. He had always been glad to be back. Now really wasn't an exception. He just saw it with a little more jaded eyes. Yet, he felt a warmth wash over him as he stepped into the entrance hall, almost as if Hogwarts herself was welcoming him. He took a breath and let that soothing air float through him. It was freeing, and he hadn't realized he'd been restrained. He wondered what was different about the air here. Sunnydale's air felt heavy and oppressive, here it was fresher. He'd have to think on it later.

Harry slipped through the doors and past the entrance hall. He gazed at familiar places, but the memories weren't as burdensome as when he had left in June. They didn't spark as harsh a pain. He glanced into the Great hall and when his eyes landed on the Gryffindor table he felt only a quiet ache in his chest. But he past everything quickly. His path set on the headmaster's office. The halls were quiet and he saw no one else as he walked. To soon he found himself at the stony gargoyle that marked Dumbledore's office.

Harry paused for a moment. Not thinking of the password, but instead wondering what his good headmaster would want now. He didn't mean the thought unkindly. Dumbledore had seemed almost godlike in Harry's younger years. As Harry had grown Dumbledore's role in his life gradually evolved into something else. Dumbledore had been Harry's teacher, his researcher, his guide. But Dumbledore had never been his confidant. The kindly headmaster had tried to be that for Harry. But they'd never achieved that trusting relationship that Harry had always wanted. To much tore at them. Whether Dumbledore wanted to admit it or not, Harry _had _tobe a weapon for the wizarding world. That was his destiny. As the leader of the light side Dumbledore couldn't ignore that. He could love Harry, he could believe in Harry, he could even want what was best for the boy, but he also had to be willing to use Harry if that was what it came down to. And Harry had sensed that.

Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore weren't friends. They were more than that. They were more like family, but that wasn't it either. Yet however this relationship was defined, it worked for them.

"Lem--" Harry had been about to begin listing sweets when the stone gargoyle opened unexpected. Harry shrugged and entered, allowing the revolving staircase to bring him upward, stopping before a partially open door.

"Come in Harry," encouraged a voice from inside.

"Someday I'd like to know how you manage that," confessed Harry as he seated himself across from the old headmaster.

"I wouldn't be at all surprised if you do learn someday," agreed Dumbledore pleasantly. Harry shrugged, but his lips pursed as he examined professor Dumbledore. The aged wizard was looking suddenly older to Harry. The man seemed slimmer. His cheekbones stood out prominently above his beard. But, the familiar blue eyes still twinkled down at Harry.

"You've pulled quite the disappearing act, took many people by surprise." Dumbledore made his comment through amused eyes.

"But not you," stated Harry. The headmaster merely nodded and tipped his head in agreement.

"No, I understood. I know it seems like forever ago, but I battled my own dark lord once. I wasn't as young as you, nor had I suffered as much. But the thanks of a grateful nation can weigh heavy. Especially when it is not their thanks you want. But I'm glad to see that wherever you went seems to have suited you." Dumbledore gazed off into space for a moment, he seemed to be remembering other things. Yet, he turned back to Harry with a soft smile.

"I don't know if suited is quite right, hardly as peaceful as I'd have liked," admitted Harry.

"Ah yes, with Macnair stirring up trouble I doubt you enjoyed yourself." Dumbledore smiled as Harry's surprised eyes darted in his direction. "Ah yes, I have quite a few friends at the Ministry. Harry, you sent a shock wave by showing up with one of Voldemort's most dangerous deatheaters."

"That wasn't what I intended," grumbled Harry.

"At this point I doubt a little more fame will matter much," Dumbledore alleged. Harry shrugged. "How is your magic faring?" asked Dumbledore. It was the question Harry had been expecting ever since he had entered Hogwarts, but he still wasn't certain how to answer.

"I...it's okay," answered Harry. Dumbledore settled back into his chair and viewed the young wizard carefully. Harry sighed.

"Fine, it not _okay_, I've been having some problems...most I've had under control but this last one..." Harry looked up, but as always there was no accusation Dumbledore's gaze just the carefully hidden concern.

"Why don't you tell me about it," the older wizard advised.

"I've been feeling slightly off in the town I was in. I...well do you know anything about Sunnydale California?" Dumbledore's looked up, startled at Harry's question.

"The location of the largest American hellmouth? What were you doing there?"

"That's where my uncle lives. He's a Watcher for the Slayer." Harry couldn't help smiling at the mixture of confusion and surprise which dominated the face of the usually wise headmaster.

"I didn't know you had another uncle, but if you've been in Sunnydale I can understand the turmoil you've had with your magic. A hellmouth releases a large amount of dark magic. These tendrils of dark magic have a tendency to draw in people and creatures of, shall we say, more questionable natures." Dumbledore closed his eyes wearily. "It also can act as an influence on the innocent, causing them to do things they might not ordinarily do. With your magic unsteady it is particularly open to influence."

Harry shifted in his seat. Dumbledore's eyes sparkled as he looked down at the young wizard.

"Not to worry Harry. I'm sure that you'll find your balance. It will just take time. Your magic is very young in its way. You'll need to understand it all over again." Dumbledore gazed at Harry for a moment. He seemed hesitant to speak, his lips narrowed together in thought.

"Yes professor," encouraged. Harry

"I was wondering what your plans for next year might be...your NEWT scores were most acceptable, especially your Defense Against the Dark Art's score." Dumbledore paused for a moment and Harry opened his eyes incredulously.

"Professor, you can't want me for the DADA's job...I'm just..."

"Relax Harry," Dumbledore chuckled softly at the wide-eyed look on Harry's face. The young man had risen in his chair, his hands extended as if physically pushing the responsibility away. "I have no intention of making you a professor at this school. You are doubtlessly more qualified than some professors we have had in the past," Harry fought a grin, " but you are still young. The seventh years would be the same age as you. And despite your knowledge there is still more for you to learn.

"A former pupil of mine had retired from his post as an Auror. I've been trying to recruit him for years, but he's been with the Auror department through both wars, and he only felt confidant leaving now that Voldemort really is gone for good. He's accepted the post. Possibly for longer than a year."

Harry nodded. "That sound wonderful professor. Voldemort isn't a threat but it's important that students can still defend themselves and others."

"Couldn't have said it better myself. However, there is one problem Charles, Professor Smitherson, is married and doesn't intend to live in the castle. Such has been known to happen, but in these cases, teachers usually hire assistants. You'd be of great help to him I think and to the students as well. It might also give you the opportunity to learn more, as his apprentice."

"I..." Harry's voice trailed off. He didn't know what to make of Dumbledore's proposal.

"I make this merely as an opportunity for you Harry. I have no more say in your life, or the future you make. I think perhaps I should have lost that right long ago."

"Professor?" Harry looked up and watched and Dumbledore folded his hands. The old man seemed slightly hunched in his chair.

"I am sorry Harry. I wish Voldemort, this burden, had never been yours. The older I get the more wishes I seem to have. You have proven yourself more capable than I. It is a valuable lesson."

"Professor, I don't...it wasn't your fault..."

"I know Harry," Dumbledore smiled wryly. "Fate made it's choice, it couldn't have chosen better. But I too made choices. They have hurt you and used you I fear. I did it all with the best intentions...but intentions don't weigh much. Do they?"

"Sir, I'm not questioning this opportunity because of you," stated Harry. He had a desire to make that known to the headmaster. "But, there are other things. My uncle. Figuring out where I should be. What I should do." Harry shook his head, resting his forehead in his hand.

"Ah yes, you are at that time of your life aren't you Harry. The world is opening before you and you don't know what to choose. Sometimes I forget that for all you have done you are very much like your peers. Trying to find a way in the world." Dumbledore paused and glanced out the window. The sun was shining brightly today, sending sharp light through the window. Harry also paused and watched as the light seemed to define all the lines that marked Professor Dumbledore's face. Harry's breath caught in his throat and an anxious rumbling stirred in his stomach. Never had the powerful wizard looked so old. Time seemed to be beating down on his headmaster. It filled Harry's chest with dread.

"Go back to where you have been Harry. Continue taking stock of your life, perhaps discuss this with your Uncle. Family can be good for this. Just consider it."

Harry nodded again, rising from his chair. "I will professor." Harry turned to leave when Dumbledore's voice spoke.

"Just try to be happy Harry, whatever you choose."

-

As Harry Potter left Dumbledore's office, its remaining occupant sighed wearily. He turned his head to his friend of many years, Fawkes. The phoenix cooed a few soft notes that caused the headmaster's heart to feel renewed strength.

"I feel it Fawkes, as do you. My times is ending. We have spent many years together and I will be sad to see that go. But that is not what keeps me here. That boy. He's fought and must continue to fight. It is what defines him, and I fear all that he knows. And when I am gone they will look to him. They will ask things of him. And he will give it. Sacrificing himself, bit by bit." Dumbledore sighed, his breathe escaping him slowly.

"He will take the burden I now bear. But it is not what I wanted for him. It was never what I wanted."

Fawkes song echoed through the chamber.

"I will hold on, as long as I can. For him."

-

-

A/N: Okay...had planned on extending it until Harry returns to Sunnydale, but had to give Dumbledore his moment. I rather like the guy. Know there are some Manipulative Dumbledore fans out there, but I see that every "manipulative" move made by the headmaster was what he felt was needed for either the happiness or safety of the wizarding word or Harry. He has the problems of the world on his shoulders. Eck, don't want his job.

Could use some good comments...been wondering about my writing lately. Perhaps it's because I've been reading some good fics and wondering if mine is up to par. Let me know what you're thinking. Could use some honest feedback. And just to be nasty, the more review the more I write. Evil personified.


	19. Everyone Has to Say Goodbye Sometime

Chapter 19: Everyone Has to Say Good-bye Sometime

-

Harry was walking through the halls of Hogwarts. They seemed unnatural when they were this quiet. He was used to the loud clatter of his fellow students, the noise they made as they moved from class to class. Harry's steps were slow, he had no rush to go any where. And his mind was a little unsure. Something about his meeting with Dumbledore had set a gnawing feeling in his stomach. It took him a moment to recognize the aching of fear. It wasn't the kind of fear he was used to, not the life or death kind. Not the fear of knowing these moments might be your last. He'd had those. This was unsettling, hopeless kind of fear. He wanted to push it aside like he did so many emotions, but this one seemed to have planted itself in his gut.

And he didn't even know what he was afraid of.

There had been something off during that meeting. It had gone well, sure it had. Dumbledore had been understanding, he hadn't judged Harry's need to escape. For, what else was Harry's trip to Sunnydale but an escape. He wasn't ashamed to admit that he had needed it. But was it still just an escape? He'd met some real friends there. And friends were something to treasure.

Harry looked up slightly, surprised as a gust of warm wind blew at his hair. His feet had automatically lead him to the front gates it seemed. He turned and looked at the headmaster's tower office. Once again the strange fluttering of fear disturbed him, but he did his best to quash it as he walked through the gates. Harry didn't know what the future would hold. As a whole, he thought divination was a load of bunk. Still, he wished his life had a clearer path.

With a soft pop, Harry Potter disapparated, and arrived somewhere around the world.

-

Rupert Giles sat enjoying the silence.

Which was odd. A week ago he couldn't stand the emptiness his hours had been. Perhaps this was different because he was waiting for someone. Harry would be here soon. The quiet wasn't as oppressive when one knew that it would end.

Joyce, filled with maternal concern, had finally dictated that Willow should be taken to the hospital. Giles had agreed considering that the young wicca's injury wasn't exactly magical in nature. Ordinary doctors should have no trouble setting the arm back in its socket, although Giles didn't envy Joyce having to explain what "pain medication" Willow had taken. Buffy and Oz had followed them, leaving Xander fast asleep on the couch, and Angel sulking in Giles's basement.

That was a tad harsh, admitted Giles thinking about the vampire. Giles knew that Angel and Angelus were two different people, but they wore the same face. And, he'd never forget being tortured by the latter. Angel had seemed to pick up on Giles's discomfort and had decided to rest a bit in the basement. Giles hadn't argued. But it didn't matter, it wouldn't surprise the watcher if Angel managed to get out of town before they even noticed he was gone.

He sipped his tea, grateful that they had all made it through yet another adventure alive. He marveled slightly at his nephew. What would Lily have thought, knowing that her child was destined for such great things. He wondered if maybe she _had_ known, and whether it would have mattered if she did. Lily had never cared about that sort of thing. She had always judged people on how they treated others. It had been one of her best qualities as far as Giles was concerned. Well, he imagined she'd have been proud of her son either way.

Still, Giles didn't envy Harry the rough road ahead. The light of hell. It was a prophecy without an end so to speak. _The light of hell, will either burn the world or, he will act as a light amid darkness. _A light amid darkness, was that the path Harry had chosen? Was that the path that Giles and Buffy had put him on? It was a life without a happily ever after, no home with children and chickens. Giles knew of such a life. He'd lived it. It could be a lonely existence. Especially if one lacked family and friends. Giles frowned, what sort of support did his nephew have?

Pop

Giles looked up somewhat startled to see Harry standing in his entranceway. The young man gave him a smile before practically collapsing in a chair opposite Giles.

"Did it go okay?" Giles asked. Harry had been gone for over two hours.

"Oh, yes. Macnair is about to enjoy a trial and then the Dementor's kiss. No more than what he deserves I suppose." Harry blinked his eyes tiredly. It had been a long night.

"Buffy and the others have taken Willow to the hospital to have her arm set."

"Mmhhm, that's good. I'm rubbish at healing charms." Harry muttered his eyes closed.

"You seem to manage decently," commented Giles. He watched in some amusement as Harry lay slouched, practically asleep.

"Oh I know a few. The nurse at Hogwarts said I might as well learn something with how often I came to see her._"_

"Accident prone were you?" Giles asked.

Harry shrugged. "I suppose you could call it that. If I wasn't in there from Quidditch, than I was recuperating from another adventure that nearly got me killed," Harry's voice smiled as he spoke. His breath became more regular as he lay sprawled in the living room. He'd been up for quite awhile by this point. The air seemed to be pressing down on him, his neck felt heavy. Harry rolled awkwardly onto his side. He was uncomfortable but too tired to move.

Giles leaned back, watching. Wondering yet again who was going to be there for his nephew.

-

Buffy flung the door open and stomped through Giles's flat. She and her mother had returned from taking Willow to the hospital. It had been an annoying ordeal. Lots of waiting for something that only took a few moments. The doctor had asked a few questions, but hadn't seemed to care much about the quality of the answers. Which was lucky, as they'd forgotten to agree upon how Willow had injured herself. The result had been both Buffy and her mother blurting out completely different incidents. Thankfully they lived in Sunnydale where most of the time the doctors just didn't want to know.

Buffy paused in her rather loud entrance when she examined the sight before her. Xander seemed to have forgotten he didn't live here and was sprawled across the couch, a somewhat nasal snore coming from him. Giles was by far the most dignified of the bunch, his head tilted back, eyes closed. Harry's own sleeping posture looked terribly uncomfortable, his neck bent at an odd angle. Buffy paused. She bit her lip as she watched Harry sleep. The peaceful rhythmic breathing. Once again, she was reminded of how young he was. Heck, how young all of them were. She bent her head to the side as she watched him. He was...cute. It seemed wrong to call him that, but he was.

The usually messy hair somehow messier. Those penetrating eyes hidden beneath eyelids. He probably didn't know he had eyelashes some girls would kill for. It was incredibly unfair for a boy to have such pretty eyes. But his eyes were the only thing pretty about him. The rest of his body was strong, sturdy. It was a body built to handle the shit the world threw at it. She remembered how strong and warm those arms had been when he'd carried her.

Buffy's brow furrowed. Geez she was getting off track here. She had fully intended to just check out the situation with Harry and Giles before heading back home for her own nap. Speaking of which, she was tired. It wasn't fair that the guys got to sleep and she was running around in faux leather heels.

She pouted, it wasn't exactly attractive but she was tired.

"Your face might stick like that," a voice warned.

Buffy's eyes jumped upward. "Wh– oh Harry, you're awake." Buffy sidestepped the teasing comment and settled herself across the young wizard.

"Yep, your clanging could wake the dead," he smirked at her. Buffy's pulse quickened, her heart leaping in her chest. Had he...eh...noticed her staring at him? Oh god she'd die from embarrassment.

"Heee, he..." she laughed nervously. Harry didn't seem to notice and rubbed his forehead, his fingers drawing circles at his temples. He shook his head, trying to escape the buzzing in his ears.

"How's Willow?" he inquired.

"Oh she's fine. The doctor set her arm real fast and the pain potion thing left her pretty loopy. She was calling Oz her 'little carrot', I'm not certain if she'll remember that. Oz is just lucky Xander wasn't there or that would be a nickname that he'd be stuck with for life." Buffy's voice hurried on in its chattering tone. _I'm blabbering I'm blabbering, I'm a blabbering-er I gezzz, _Buffy's thoughts ran in circles as she tried to play it cool. Why was she going all...fuzzy?

Buffy stopped and stared at Harry.

He's just a friend.

_Yeah keep telling yourself that._

"That's good," nodded Harry. Completely unaware of Buffy's inner turmoil, Harry was more preoccupied with trying to sense out his magic. Dumbledore was right. He'd gained some order since the fight on the hellmouth but it was still fractured. Harry frowned slightly. The magic in the air felt like it was tugging on his splintered core. He shook his head.

"You okay?" Buffy questioned. She had leaned in slightly and seemed troubled by whatever emotions had flickered across his face.

"I'm-"

"Fine," completed Buffy. She raised her eyebrows.

"Okay, not fooling you." Harry sighed. He felt more comfortable around Buffy than he felt around most people. He watched her eyes flicker with concern. Suck it up Potter, he commanded himself. She deserves some answers.

"When I defeated Voldemort...I didn't do it in an ordinary way." Harry shook his head. He never did anything normal. "See a prophecy said if I didn't kill him, he'd kill me. I didn't want to murder him...but I didn't have a choice. He...well he killed so many people. My parents, my friends, people I didn't even know but I was responsible for them too." Harry paused. Somehow he'd become responsible for more people than seemed fair. He hurried away from those thoughts and continued his tale.

" And, my friend, the last person he killed. Hermione, I told you about her..."

Buffy nodded, remembering the day Harry had confided in her about his friends' deaths.

"She found a spell, a spell she thought would be justice. When he killed her, I figured I owed it to her to use it. So I did. It was supposed to suck his magic from him, he'd die a slow terrible death. And he'd die a muggle, something he had always hated. Hermione figured it was as close to justice as his victims would ever get. But something went wrong...or maybe it was supposed to work that way, I don't know. But when his magic burst out, it didn't disappear. I think I understand now. See, I don't think magic can ever be destroyed. It's like energy. But for some reason the magic came into me."

Buffy's eyes opened wide. Harry didn't notice. His thoughts had settled inward again. Turning into that magic. Again he noted the unpleasant pressure in the air. Tugging at his painfully shattered magical core. Buffy's voice brought him back to the present.

"So you have..."

"Yes, his magic and mine. And trust me, I don't want his. Sometimes when I sleep I see things his magic did. He was so bound to it. This magic. He did things to it, with it...things wizards shouldn't do."

Buffy cringed and reached out to grasp his forearm.

"But Dumbledore, my school's headmaster, he said that a magical core isn't meant to be torn apart and added too. It's made me, at least for the time, more vulnerable to outside influences."

"So that...when your eyes went all red...that was Voldemort?"

Harry wanted to lie. He wanted to tell her that it was Voldemort, placing all the blame on the sadistic madman. But he couldn't.

"No, that was me. Something in the magic here, in Sunnydale, there at the hellmouth...it's very strong. But in a bad way. I don't know what I'd have done if you hadn't...If I'd given into it." Harry's voice floundered and for a moment he was filled with images of _what_ he might have done. Then in a flash the tornado of fears stopped and his mind became suddenly clear.

_I can't stay here. _

The thought was an unwelcome one. But he knew it was true, he couldn't stay here. Not if he wanted to heal, not if he wanted to be whole some day. Being here was like picking at a scab.

Something of Harry's thoughts must have reflected in his eyes because for Buffy, those vivid green eyes suddenly stole her breath away.

"Harry..." she swallowed nervously as his head lifted. Without knowing what she was doing, Buffy leaned forward. Her mind didn't register anything except sudden warm fluttering in her stomach as she pressed her lips against his. It was soft, no demands. She pulled back quickly, shaking herself wondering what had inspired that sudden action. It had just seemed right.

"I...I..." Harry stared back at her with a gobsmacked expression. He hadn't expected that. He hadn't anticipated anything remotely like that. And although it had been a surprise, he knew without question that it was certainly something he wanted to experience again.

Harry tried to pull himself together. "I've forgotten what we were talking about," he confessed.

Buffy giggled again. "Well that's nice to know."

This time Harry tentatively leaned forward, watching Buffy's eyes as he did so. The laughter faded to be replaced with something else. Harry paused. Once again a pair of lips met his, this time more firmly. He closed his eyes and drank in the smell of her. Her blonde hair brushed his face. His hand reached out, sliding along her back, bringing her closer to him.

Harry could have floated as the magic that had swirled around them before returned in full force. He could see it though his closed eyes. He was feeling distinctly sappy. He'd never relate this to anyone...except perhaps Buffy.

He smiled when they parted.

Cough

Buffy and Harry sprang apart as if they had been spring loaded. Harry jumped to his feet and hastily shoved his hands into his pockets. He looked up to see his Uncle polishing his glasses.

"I'm sorry, did I miss something? I can't see a thing without my spectacles." Giles's voice was rather sly, and Harry was rather certain that his Uncle had caught him mid-snog but he was relieved by his Uncle's guise nonetheless.

"Uhhhh, hi Giles," bubbled Buffy.

"Hello Buffy, I'm surprised you aren't sleeping like the rest of us, hem, _were_."

"Ooh, yeah...Just wanted to see how you guys were doing. But since you're doing fine." Buffy smiled "I...uh, really should be going." Buffy paused for a moment, then leaned towards Harry, who opened his green eyes wide. Buffy grinned at his deer-in-the -headlights look.

"Maybe you should talk a little, with that Uncle of yours. He's not a bad guy when you've got a lot on your mind. Just don't let on that I told you that." Buffy voice was quiet, and Harry grew still as he listened.

"Maybe you're right," conceded Harry.

Buffy grinned impishly. "I'm always right." With a grin in his direction, she flounced out of the room.

Harry watched as she left. That carefree exuberance she possessed. It was amazing when you knew what she dealt with nightly. Yet, Harry couldn't hide the returning feeling of sadness when his previous thoughts returned in full force. He liked Buffy, he liked her lightness, her determination, the love she expressed to those around her. But that kiss... it had been the sort of thing that _should_ hold him here. Yet it couldn't. He could never become the type of man he should be, the type of man Buffy deserved, if he didn't become whole again. But his magic wouldn't heal here.

No one ever said that life was fair. His life just seemed more unfair than most.

"We really should do something about him," said Giles nodding toward Xander. Harry hadn't noticed but the young man's snores had become somewhat loud. The potion Harry had given him would likely ensure that Xander wouldn't wake up anytime soon.

Giles looked upward, thinking that they might leave Xander up in his room. "Well if you take his shoulders and I take his feet I think we might just manage," said Giles speculatively.

Harry grinned. He snapped his fingers and the young man on the couch disappeared. Harry grinned and took Xander's place, stretching satisfactorily.

"I thought of doing that early."

Giles looked ceiling-ward again, the noise of Xander's slumber now muffled. "If you can do that why didn't you pop him home?"

"I ah...don't know where he lives," shrugged Harry. "Didn't want to miss, he could wind up on the roof."

"Something I'm sure he'd live with," muttered Giles. Harry nodded and leaned back into the cushions of the sofa. But Harry didn't close his eyes. He kept them open, wondering how he was going to tell Giles and Buffy what he had to do.

"Are you alright Harry?" a kind male voice asked. Harry raised his head and locked eyes with his Uncle.

His trademark 'I'm fine' was on the tip of his tongue. But this time he paused.

"No. Not really." Harry sat up, he surveyed his Uncle for a moment. Giles felt the measuring quality of the gaze and stiffened his spine slightly. But whatever Harry was looking for, he must have found.

In a low voice, Harry quickly related the fall of Voldemort to his Uncle. It felt easier telling it now, after having shared the misadventure with Buffy. His Uncle had listened, seemingly tranquil, during the tale's telling. Yet his eyes had flickered when his nephew mentioned Voldemort's magic entering himself.

"I went to speak with Dumbledore, they said he wanted to see me, so I went. I...well we talked about things. He said, well I told him I was here. He knows the hellmouth. Said all the dark magic not only lured dark creatures here, but it also acts as an influence."

"I'd willingly agree to that," Giles said with a nod. He'd often seen good people driven to the brink, often for the best intentions.

"And with my magic being the way it is..." Harry paused. He wasn't certain how to explain this. Not without it sounding like was merely trying to escape from Sunnydale. That wasn't it. He intended to come back. He had an Uncle who seemed to...care about him?

Harry leaned back for a moment and tried to look at his Uncle from an outsider's perspective. The older man was seated, leaning forward slightly. His forehead was slightly furrowed, his eyes looking downward. Harry could see his Uncle's mind puzzling out what Harry was saying. Giles's lips narrowed into a slight frown.

He did care. He must. Uncle Vernon or even Aunt Petunia had never shown the slightest interest in Harry's well-being, well, unless he endangered their own. Yet, Rupert Giles, a man who had only known of his existence for a short time, seemed honestly worried about him.

"You have to leave...don't you." Giles looked up.

"Did...did you want me to stay?" Harry had to ask. It was probably rude to be so direct, it might offend his Uncle. But for a kid who had spent so many years knowing that he wasn't wanted, it was something he had to ask.

Giles swallowed. He took a breath.

"Yes...I wanted that."

Harry leaned back in his chair, a small smiles spread across his face, he lifted his hand and pushed a few stay hairs out of his face. He took a breath and promised himself that he would remember this moment. Sitting here with the mid-day sun slipping through the windows, the dusty, bookish smell of this Uncle's house. If he concentrated he thought he could catch the smell of Buffy in the air, he could remember the magic sparking in the air as she'd leaned in to kiss him. He'd remember the flecks of gold in his uncle's eyes as the older man nervously expressed his desire for Harry to stay. He'd remember all of this. Moments like this were rare, and he'd treasure it. Even if, for the moment, these memories would cause him nothing but pain.

"I'm sorry, but I have to go. I can't stay here in Sunnydale. But..."

A gasp intruded into the conversation.

Harry's head whipped around, his eyes widening when he spotted the source of the noise. Buffy. Her mouth hung slightly open, her eyes wide.

"You're leaving?" Her voice was amazingly steady. But there was a hurt in her eyes that surprised him. Harry had thought he'd known Buffy pretty well. What he hadn't known, and probably had no way of knowing, was that she didn't lose her heart easily. And that one kiss which had been so sudden and unplanned, a kiss which might be interpreted as friendly and caring, was in truth, filled with a voiceless confession of love.

Love.

Harry hadn't known it, Buffy hadn't known it. But there is was. Now the emotion stood between them heavily. Buffy closed her eyes and swallowed as the now familiar ache of abandonment tugged at her.

"I..."

Buffy was gone before the words left Harry's lips. She'd heard all this before. She flung herself from Giles's flat and into the deceptively cheerful California day, her feet pounded on the pavement as she cursed herself for being foolish once again. What did she think was gonna happen? Had she really expected for Harry to just toss his magical world aside, move here, go to UC Sunnydale with her and live happily ever after? Well as happily as a Slayer and powerful boy-wizard could.

She bit her lip fiercely. She had. She's done it again. Idiot! She'd fallen into the same trap with Angel. Damn the Beatles and their "All You Need is Love" song. Love wasn't all you needed. Love didn't pay the bills, love didn't bridge oceans, and love sure didn't keep people together when the forces of evil were constantly tearing them apart.

She'd been a fool, and it hurt even more the second time.

"Buffy!" The Slayer stumbled for a moment when a voice called her name. She looked over her shoulders to see a black haired young man chasing after her. She was sorely tempted to keep running she was nearly at her house, she could run inside, lock the door and bury herself until all the feelings fell away. But she didn't.

"Buf–fy" Harry staggered to a halt next to her. His breath came in ragged gasps. He'd run full speed trying to keep up with her. He shook with exhaustion, he lowered his hands to his knees, leaning forward. He wheezed trying to catch his breath. He glanced up at Buffy, she wasn't even out of breath. Okay, Slayer stamina wasn't something to be doubted. Nice to know.

"Not- for-rever" Harry struggled to say. "I'm- not- forever...jusst magic heals..." Harry looked back up, his eyes trying to tell her what his weak words could not.

Buffy stood still. Harry had caught some breath and straightened, his eyes were locked on the far away look she had.

"Buf- umph" Harry voice became muffled in shock when Buffy threw herself at his chest, wrapping her arms around him. Harry paused for a moment, unsure how to react. Buffy's head came to just about his nose, the soft scent of her hair washed over him. Strawberries? Harry wrapped his arms around Buffy, pulling her closer.

"You aren't leaving forever?" Buffy glanced upward.

"Nope. Just got to get my magic fixed, then you can't keep me away." Harry shook his head.

Buffy smiled. "I'll hold you to that."

Joyce Summers closed the curtain with a small smile on her face. Seeing her daughter, seeing the seeds of love that were being planted, she felt an unimaginable feeling of relief. She had always wanted this happiness for Buffy. She wanted it for Harry too. She continued smiling softly as the phone rang.

"Hello...oh hello Mr. Giles." pause. "Yes they're outside...no everything seems fine."

In his flat, Giles shook his head a gesture of both exasperation and (somewhat hidden) relief.

"Thank you Joyce...you wouldn't mind if I popped over would you?" Pause. "Good, see you then." Giles rested the phone on the cradle. He took a moment, sitting in a chair. Unbidden a laugh came pouring from him. It was an unusual sound to be heard coming from the Watcher. He tied his shoes with a somewhat goofy grin. He wrote a note for Xander should the young man wake, then left for Buffy's house on foot.

Well Rupert Giles, he thought to himself, you won't be lonely anymore.

**-The End-**

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A/N: I promise an epilogue so you can get a glimpse into what life holds in store for Harry and Buffy's world. A sequel depends on how well I can create a new plot, I'm not about to throw together something that won't work. Smiles, I like this story too much to do that.

Special thanks goes to SeleneHarker, my beta for this chapter. I'll admit to being a little anxious about this last official chapter, but she talked me off the ledge and got me writing. So you can thank her for this update.

Just in chance folks don't stick around for the epilogue...I personally love them, but you never know some people might not be fans, I wanted to write something about borrowing ideas from this story. Go Ahead! If anyone got an idea for a fanfic from reading mine, I sincerely hope you write it. Don't like how something went, write your own version. I only ask that you let me know, smiles, so that I can read it and enjoy it. I feel that this is the spirit of fanfiction, a true sharing of ideas. Well, that is my philosophy, I hope you enjoyed my fanfic. And, I hope you enjoy what hopefully will be more to come (I have a great idea for a HP/Xmen crossover!)


	20. Epilogue: Part I

Thanks to SeleneHarker for Beta-ing this Fic. She Rocks!

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Epilogue: Part I

Harry spent the next couple days getting ready to leave. It was odd to be getting ready. In the past he'd always just tossed his stuff in his trunk and that had been it. Ready to go. Now Harry found himself experiencing an odd thing known as the long good-bye. First, Joyce has insisted that he have one last dinner at her house before he left. Giles, not wanting to be outdone, had decided that they should have one last dinner at his flat. Harry suspected that this was really done so that Giles could prove to his nephew that he _could_ cook. The gang filled up Harry's days with 'one last movie- at the theatre' and then 'one last movie at home' and because Harry hadn't seen a single James Bond movie (Xander had been particularly loud. "How the hell! You're British, he's British..isn't that like some rule over there!") he had been forced to stay for 'one last last movie.' Which had actually been quite good. Harry was of the opinion that he should trust Xander to pick out movies from now on.

Then there was 'one last trip to the Expresso Pump' followed by 'one last trip to the Bronze' which was odd considering he's never had a first trip there. Still, despite his rather uncoordinated performance at the Yule Ball, Harry managed to dance decently, if this could be called dancing. He _had_ tried to demonstrate his waltzing abilities, which the gang all found amusing, although the girls did swoon a bit. Still Buffy had leaned in closer during their dance. They had largely been keeping their distance, a silent agreement to put things on hold for the moment. Resting her head on his shoulder, she had spoken softly that there would have to be 'one last' kiss before he left.

It had been an interesting two days.

And while all these little adventures were exciting, Harry found more peaceful contentment in the small things. Like the night he and Giles had prepared his farewell meal. While not completely inept in the kitchen, Harry had to admit his Uncle wasn't above making anything more complex than a sandwich and perhaps some eggs...if he paid attention. Thus Harry had graciously lent a hand after the first attempt resulted in a lumpy substance that even a demon wouldn't touch.

"I, well, I have actually cooked something edible in my life," stated a rather grumpy Giles.

"Mm hmm, I'll have to see that to believe it." Harry raised an eyebrow at his Uncle, who gazed heavenward in exasperation.

"You work magic, fight vampires and evil wizards and yet you have trouble believing that I can cook a meal." Giles leaned into the sink, his arm scrubbing at the current concoction with seemed determined to ruin his only frying pan.

"What can I say, I only believe what is reasonable," Harry opened the refrigerator and tried to see what else he might be able to magic up.

"Ha, ha, ha." Giles laughed sarcastically. "Well, I suppose it is nice to know you can take care of yourself." Giles sighed and left the pan to soak.

"Uh, yeah. I suppose so." Harry frowned, hiding the expression behind the open fridge door.

"What are your plans in England? A Flat...and house...for all I know the Potter's might own some ancestral home." Giles peered at his nephew speculatively.

"I wouldn't know. Gringrotts, do you know about..." Harry turned to his Uncle.

"Wizarding bank right?" responded Giles.

"Yeah, they sent me a letter about settling accounts now that I'm of age or something. I uh...didn't get back to them, yet." Harry rubbed his forehead thinking about the seven letters, which had grown increasing more impolite, that were still buried in his trunk.

"What would they...well I suppose it's possible that your parents might have left something in trust for when you reached adulthood. You should get that settled before you figure out your living situation."

"Yeah...I guess. I'm rubbish with financial gibberish. The whole vault full of gold was enough, don't know if I want to find out about the rest." Harry sighed. Giles swallowed and ignored the 'vault of gold' comment.

"Well so there is something you aren't good at." Harry turned to glare and Giles grinned. "Don't worry, I've found finances are one thing that you get better at as you go. I'm sure you'll manage."

"Yeah." Harry remained quiet. He stared unseeingly for a moment. These were the times when he hated being an orphan. People tended to feel sorry for him because he had lost his parents, but he'd been so young, and it had been all he'd ever known...honestly it didn't bother him most of the time. It was what he knew. But it was times like this, when he could really use the support, that he hated not having them. He didn't want to be sitting alone in Gringrotts trying to figure out his financial situation, he had no idea what was good or bad. He could just picture himself looking like an idiot in front of the Gringott's Goblins.

"Where would you like to live?" Giles asked after the long pause in discussion. He turned to see Harry lost in thought.

"Uhh, I don't know. Somewhere quiet. Where no body knows me. I was thinking of just getting a room at the Leaky Cauldron...magical pub, not a bad place, but its right at Diagon Alley, and really don't want to play the "Look it's Harry Potter! Let's Point and Stare" game."

Giles snickered for a moment. Harry shot him a sobering look. "I can see how that might get tiring," the older man acquiesced. Harry nodded.

"Well depending on your finances a house might be a good investment. I've always thought of buying a place. Then you know you've got a home. Somewhere you can always go to." Giles gave this advice trying to think of Harry as an adult, under normal circumstance he'd never recommend a seventeen-year-old buy a home. But, Harry wasn't normal, so maybe some "abnormal" advice might be in order.

"Yeah, that would be nice." Harry reflected for a moment. He could almost picture it. A small place, in the country like the Weasley's house maybe. Far away from fans. Maybe a garden? But a house meant so much stuff, more things to figure out. Did the magical world have heating bills? Maybe he could get a House Elf...could he avoid having a House Elf if Dobby found out he had bought a house? The more he thought about it, the more complicated it seemed. Harry banged his head against the fridge in frustration.

"Harry...um I'm going to hazard a guess and say that you don't know what you want to do?"

"What gave me away," asked Harry.

"Well the fact that you're trying to brain yourself was a small hint." Giles grabbed the young man's shoulders and stopped him from knocking his head again.

"Ah yes, I can see that," Harry nodded and rubbed his temple.

"Try not to worry, I'm sure it will all work itself out," soothed Giles.

"Yeah, sure," agreed Harry.

The conversation was soon dropped as food preparation got under way. With Harry's help Giles managed to cook what even Joyce pronounced to be a 'wonderful meal'.

But, eventually even all the 'one last' events had to come to an end. Harry, while wanting to stay, was even more convinced he had to go, his dreams remained troubled and his magic seemed restless. It surprised him he hadn't noticed the state of his magic before. It seemed so apparent now. Dumbledore always did have the talent of pointing out the obvious. Harry saw now that he had been pushing off all the turbulence in his magic as isolated incidents, he'd never bothered or wanted to see the pattern.

So, his trunk was packed. Harry fought the need to go. Buffy and the gang were dropping in to say good-bye. He'd snagged a coke from his Uncle's fridge and was watching the bright California sun slowly slip closer to the horizon. It was quiet for the moment. His Uncle seemed to be in deep thought. Harry had started to see that this focused thought was a part of his Uncle's character. Somewhat like Hermione in that regard, they would have gotten along splendidly. For a moment Harry could close his eyes and picture Ron and Hermione beside him. They would have liked Sunnydale he decided. The town was full of mysteries. They, the golden trio, had always been happiest when in the midst of a mystery. Who was after the stone? Who was heir of Slytherin? How was Sirius Black getting in the castle? Who had entered Harry's name in the tournament? What was the Order Protecting? How would they stop Voldemort? Harry and his friends had never really been without mysteries. He wouldn't have known his years at Hogwarts without them.

"Harry?" Giles's voice drew the young wizard out of his reverie.

"Yeah?" Harry turned and met his Uncle's look. The older man looked nervous and Harry prepared himself for a good-bye.

"I was wondering, if perhaps you'd like some company, for a bit."

Harry turned startled. "What...eh what do you mean?" Harry's green eyes had opened slightly.

"Well, I was thinking you might like a hand getting things settled. Evil seems to be taking a break here for the moment, and Buffy could always contact me if I was really needed. I just thought you might want your old Uncle around for a bit." Giles made his proposal with a somewhat scratchy throat, but as he finished he raised his eyes and smiled at the young man.

Harry paused, his eyes flickering for a moment, trying to understand this action. "I...well, I'd appreciate that," he finally managed to answer.

Giles nodded. "Good, I wouldn't mind taking a peek at the magical world...I was out of the house when Lily got her letter, she told me about it though...sounds very interesting."

"You're just doing this for the magic bookstore right?" teased Harry.

"Did someone say magical bookstore?"

Harry and Giles turned to see Willow standing in the open door with, what could only be described as, glinting devilish eyes. She smiled and Harry couldn't help but cringe. He saw the all to familiar bookish gleam in Willows eyes. Xander, who was standing behind her, hit his head.

"Don't say the B-word around Willow, and defiantly not if it's combined with the M-word." Willow shushed him and hurried over to Harry and Giles.

"A real magical bookstore, we only have the magic box here. But the new owner hasn't bought any new books since the old owner died."

"Don't be down Will," appeased Xander, "This new owner is bound to be killed sometime soon, maybe you'll get a more booky guys next time."

"Well, one can only hope," Willow replied distractedly. She noticed her mistake and looked up panicked. "Not that I want anyone to die...I mean, it's not as if I'm hoping we'll find him in a pool of blood, but well...I mean..."

"Stop while you're ahead," advised Oz bumping her with his elbow. Willow grinned and raised a hand to 'zip' her mouth shut.

"Yes, well Harry and I have decided that I'm going to go with him for a bit," stated Giles.

"Uhhh..." Buffy looked up and raised her hand.

"Yes, Buffy," Giles replied with a sigh.

"Slayer would like to know why Watcher is allowed to leave hellmouth, leaving Buffy to fight evil alone."

"Xander hopes that we can continue speaking in the third person," added the dark haired man.

"Willow would like to stop now please."

"As would I." Giles removed his glasses and paused. "I suppose that the recent lull hasn't escaped your notice."

"The only people in the graveyards last night were dead," related Buffy.

"Yes, darkness usually dies down during the summer months anyway, but their recent defeat has no doubt also given them the incentive to lay low. I think you and Sunnydale will be fine if I'm gone for a week or so. Enough time to get Harry settled."

"And explore Magical Bookstores!?" pouted Willow.

"What's all this?" asked Joyce. She had been carefully parking her car while the Scoobies had hurried inside. She looked around at the narrowed faces.

"Giles is going to go with Harry for a bit," explained Buffy, her mouth in a firm line.

"That's an excellent idea," Joyce replied with a smile and a nod. "I will admit I was a little worried about you. I know you're accomplished in this magical stuff...but you really should have an adult to look over you."

Harry stopped himself from declaring that he _was_ an adult.

"Mom!" fumed an outraged Buffy. "This isn't good news. It isn't fair that Giles gets to go and have fun in magical England while Buffy is stuck here to slay the badness. And I was good _all_ summer!" Buffy continued pouting and Joyce tactfully ignored the somewhat silly response. As Buffy's mother, Joyce could easily recognize the true source of her daughter's frustration.

"Now Buffy, don't take out your missing Harry on Giles."

"I'm..." Buffy frowned at her Mother, raising her chin stubbornly. "That's not it."

"Umm...any chance there might be an extra ticket handy?" questioned Willow with wide hopeful eyes. Buffy turned to her friend, momentarily speechless.

"I...well I suppose that could be arranged." Giles turned to Harry who nodded. Harry had spotted the drive to learn in the red head's eyes, he didn't want to stand in the way of that.

"What!" Buffy had regained control of her voice and spluttered at the young wicca.

"Well it would be an amazing experience, and we'd have a guided tour of the wizarding world."

"We?" questioned Oz, having aptly caught Willows use of the plural.

"Maybe a few extra tickets?" prompted Willow.

Buffy now turned to her friend with a raised brow. "How long have you been planning this?" she questioned.

"Hmmm...well I wasn't really planning..." Willow shrugged and smiled sweetly.

"You did say the hellmouth action is at an all time low," stated an intrigued Xander.

"Yes, but..." Giles turned for a moment, catching the grin on his nephew's face. "You wouldn't mind...umm, quite a bit of company?" inquired Giles.

"I don't think I've got much of a choice," Harry responded.

It had taken a long, long time for everyone to be ready to go. Did he say long? Long was the amount of time it took for Buffy to decide between her pink tank top or her green tank top. In the end, she'd just decided to bring them both. Harry had decided that it would have been easier to just shrink her room and take it with them. Still, they were finally ready to go.

Harry tapped a conjured coil of rope and the object glowed blue for a moment. He unwound the length and had everyone grab hold before grinning cheekily to everyone.

The group as a whole hadn't been encouraged by the smile. The fact that they could all travel almost around the world in only a few moments by holding onto a piece of rope already had them on edge. They had port-keyed before. To the hellmouth. It had been nothing. But then...why was Harry looking so smug?

"Hold on tight, don't want to loose anyone over the Atlantic," advised Harry.

"Can that happen?" squeaked Xander. Everyone shifted, Oz wrapped a protective arm around Willow.

"You'll come get me this weekend?" asked Joyce. Buffy's mother hadn't been able to come, but arrangements had been made for Harry to pick her up on Saturday. It seemed transatlantic travel was much easier with Harry Potter as your friend.

"Here we go," said Harry as he felt the magic beginning to swell.

"Tingly!" gushed Willow. Buffy turned to see here red haired friend alight with the opportunity to travel to Magical England. It made the slayer's heart feel lighter, she had felt terrible knowing that Willow had given up Oxford and Harvard for her. Now maybe Buffy and old Sunnydale could give the young wicca something back.

But everyone's thoughts were soon wiped away in the great gust of magical wind that seemed to lift them up and take them swirling. A hook seemed to have fastened itself in their navels and was tugging them along.

"HOW LONG WILL THIS TAKE?" shouted a windswept Giles.

"NOT LONG!" replied Harry. Buffy fought a grin while watching Harry, he seemed perfectly calm even if he had claimed to hate portkey travel. Buffy decided to relax and trust Harry, the swirling wind surrounding them, no ground at their feet, it was all kinda exciting, like riding a roller coaster. Sadly the ride was all too short.

BAM!

The swirling suddenly stopped. Almost everyone was flung to the ground even Harry stumbled a bit, international portkey travel wasn't exactly easy. Nor was there landing spot. Buffy looked around with raised eyebrows.

"This...is...eh...nice," commented Buffy. They were in an ally, and a dirty one. Trash cans stood overflowing with rather smelly trash, dirty brick walls surrounded them.

"Follow me," Harry shook his head at Buffy assessment. "We'll want to try and get some rooms. Don't know how crowded they'll be."

"Ummm, where," questioned Willow. She too seemed a little perplexed by the magic world. Harry just lead them to the left brick wall, Buffy did a double take. She hadn't noticed that door before...that was unusual.

Harry opened the door that lead into the Leaky Caldron. He'd decided to set everyone down between Diagon Alley and the pub proper. It wasn't the most exciting entrance to the magical world, but it might be safer. He didn't know what reaction he'd be getting in the Leaky Caldron. He had sort of disappeared for a bit and, if anything, Harry knew that public opinion was a fickle thing. As long as he wasn't being only referred to with a hyphened name, he'd be just fine. But, just to be on the safe side, he conjured a quick baseball hat and set it low over his forehead, flattening his hair completely over the telltale scar.

The people behind Harry tried to act calm an composed. Tried being the key word. This attempt ended when Xander happened to spot someone flooing from the fireplace.

"You guys see that, the fire was bright green, and it...so cool."

"I know look at that!" said Willow. Xander's exclamation seemed to have given her permission to begin being bubbly. She raised her finger and pointed to a wizard who was dressed in bright robes, seemingly arguing with a book in front of him.

"Ooh what do you think that is?" questioned Xander as one wizard hastily consumed a drink that was smoking. "You think Harry can let us try that?"

Buffy rolled her eyes at the two of them. "Calm down guys, don't be so...holy heck! Did you see that!" Buffy nearly leapt into the air when a young wizard flew into the pub with his harried mother chasing after him. The Scoobies paused and watched as the mother shot a spell immobilizing the boy, threatening to take away his belching slugs.

"Geez, rather glad my Mom doesn't have a wand," said Buffy in amusement as she watched the young wizard, now unfrozen, burst into tears. They listened to his continued begging not to take his slugs as the mother grabbed her son and they flooed away.

Needless to say, the group was rather distracted as Harry approached Tom the bartender and asked after some rooms.

"Harry P-"

"Shhhhhhhh." Harry silenced the man quickly.

"Ah, righto, Mr. P- um righto. So you're back are you. I'm right glad to hear it."

Harry smiled warmly at the friendly man, "Yeah, how are you Tom?"

"Never better, business has picked back up since people don't have You-Know...well I suppose you would know who... People can live again, quite a relief I can tell you. And don't you worry, I didn't believe anything the papers have been saying."

Harry paled slightly. "Wh-what have they been saying." Harry paused, "Never mind I'd really rather not know." Harry leaned in, "I was wondering if you had some rooms handy?"

"Course anything for you Mr P–umm, how many will you be needing?" Tom asked cheerfully. Harry frowned...how many...one for everyone? He turned to the muggles behind him, trying to discreetly get their attention. Luckily he managed to catch Giles's eye. He waved them over and after a quick conference settled on the rooms, one for Willow and Buffy, another for Oz and Xander, and Harry and Giles would occupy a third.

They were on their way to the stairs, Harry still head bowed, when Buffy paused seeing a picture on the front page of a Wizarding paper. She had really only paused because the picture was moving and she had wanted to point it out to Willow, but she froze slightly when she recognized the face. Harry? She leaned in closer, ignoring the fact that the others had moved on. Her eyes flashed to the headline, her lips pursed as she read the winding words.

**Boy-Who-Lived Hunting Deatheaters!**

**The Daily Prophet has recently discovered who captured the Death Eater known**

**as Walden Macnair (a.k.a previous Ministry executioner, see pg 8 for in-**

**formation on his trial and pg 9 about the faults in Ministry hiring process) **

**It was none other than our own Boy-Who-Lived! Harry Potter has not abandoned**

**us as proposed by many in this last week, but rather has engaged in a world wide**

**hunt to locate and capture the remaining Death Eaters. A Ministry informant told **

**this reporter, "Macnair was pretty roughed up, nearly didn't make it. Potter must **

**have beaten the seven shades of shit out of him, course no more than the evil**

**bugger deserved"**

Buffy trailed of, gazing up. "Harry did you read this about you? Boy-Who-Lived! You made thefront page!" Buffy yelled across the room. Harry froze, the loud a busy pub had suddenly become very quiet.

"Harry Potter!" several voices shouted at once.

"Mr. Potter, ohhhhh Mr. Potter,can I get your autograph!"

"Coo, is it really 'im?"

"Show us your scar!"

The colophony of voices soon overwhelmed the room, the words became quite un-distinguishable. Harry meanwhile had begun to slowly back up, as if he had encountered a raging animal. The Scoobies had become wide-eyed, mouths hanging open in surprise.

"Uhh, hi," Harry waved in an attempt to placate the crowd. This however, was not the thing to do. The noise only became louder as a few witches bust into tears about how _terribly cute_ Harry was. Harry's eyes flickered to the Scoobies. "See you guys in the room," Harry called. Without a sound he disapperated.

"Coward!" Buffy called as the crowd converged on the Scoobies. With a few polite shoves, Buffy and the others managed to reach the stairs, dashing to their rooms. They all ran into Harry and Giles's suite, slamming the door with a loud bang. The excitement from downstairs could still be heard through the closed door.

"Whew, that was a close, why were those people being...?" Zander turned to those around him with a questioning gaze.

"It seems Harry didn't tell us something." Buffy turned a gaze upon the only other occupant of the room. Harry flushed.

"Um...I'm kinda..."

"Famous?" provided Buffy.

"You could say that." Harry slumped onto one of the beds.

After much prying the Sunnydale gang managed to pry out of Harry why exactly he was so famous. On the whole, the group wasn't very pitying.

"Well isn't that just peachy," Buffy complained. "I saved the world, I fight vampires nightly, there are no parades for Buffy! I barely graduated what with principal Skinner treating me like a juvenile offender!"

"Hey I said I didn't go to the parade!" argued Harry.

"Well I'm sorry, Mr-I've-Got-My-Own-Fanclub!" Buffy's eyebrows had raised significantly as she spoke. Harry shook his head.

"Just trust me, the entire thing is creepy."

"I don't know, some of those girls down there weren't bad looking," commented Xander. Buffy's face turned around looked at the young man pointedly.

"Eh, they ain't got nothing on you, of course," Xander managed to say, proof that he did indeed have a sense of self preservation.

"This is gonna be so much fun," gushed Willow. Harry smacked his head and burst into laughter. It wasn't long before almost everyone was laughing. Buffy held out the longest, glaring but eventually laughed the loudest. It was certain to be a fun trip.

-

It was still quite early when Harry and Giles crossed the Gringotts lobby, Harry still rather dazed. His uncle, being the practical sort, had decided that they should visit the bank to establish Harry's financial situation.The two had gotten up early, while the other Scoobies still slept. (They had wisely decided to leave the girls alone after Buffy had chucked a shoe at their heads, and they had quickly left Oz and Xander's room when the young werewolf had lived up to the creature's reputation. Who would have known that the young musician wasn't a morning person?) The two had gone alone, the streets uncrowded, snagging slices of toast from Tom as they left. The Gringotts Goblins had seen them quickly, although there had been several grumbles about people who didn't respond to letters in a timely manner. Harry and his Uncle had listened, Giles had asked questions and discussed options. Harry had sat rather quietly, signed what needed to be signed and left as quickly as he could.

Giles guided Harry through the streets, and settled him at a table while Tom went to fetch some tea.

"So," said Giles.

"I'm one of the richest wizards in the wizarding world," stated Harry, echoing the goblin's words.

"It would seem so," Giles rubbed his chin, amusement flickering in his eyes as he watched Harry try to come to terms with this interesting fact.

Harry shook his head. "Still, it's a crappy way to get money. My parents died and left me money, Sirius died and left me everything, the Ministry gave me all that money cause of Voldemort...I don't want it." Harry stared at the table, not noticing that Tom had delivered their tea. Giles smiled to the man and poured them both cups. Harry took the drink absently.

Giles sighed. "I know that it isn't how you want things Harry, but they...well your godfather and parents anyway, they left you this money so that you won't have to worry. You can do what you want, be happy."

"I'd rather not have it," Harry insisted stubbornly. "But I guess if it's mine I might as well put it to some use. Maybe I'll buy a Quidditch team."

"You already own one," stated Giles.

"I do?"

"Weren't you paying attention?" questioned Giles.

Harry shrugged, "After a while it all started sounding the same. Which team is it?"

"The Cannons, or something like that."

"Bloody Hell, Ron's gonna be ballistic." The statement was uttered thoughtlessly, then with a chagrin grin Harry realized Ron would never know. He shook his head. "I would have to own the team that is in the bottom of the league."

-

Harry's eyes narrowed at Buffy, Buffy returned his gaze with her sternest look. The two where each standing on a separate side of the room, and the room seemed to crackle with tension. Those present watched the spectacle in silence, as one might watch a pair of sword masters.

"I fought my teacher who was possessed by Voldemort, who was trying to kill me,"

"That's–"

"When I was Eleven!" Harry announced this last bit proudly. In the background Giles gagged.

"Well a _teacher_? I fought the mayor, and he was Invincible!"

"A mayor?" Harry raised his eyebrows obviously not impressed.

"He turned into a giant demonic snake," Buffy added. The glint of challenge in her eyes.

"I fought a Basilisk, which can kill with its gaze, and it's poisonous."

"Big Deal, so you fought a big snake,"

"Big! It was sixty feet long!"

Giles paled. "Um...how old were you..."

Harry didn't turn from Buffy as he answered. "Twelve,"

"Bloody," Giles muttered in the background.

"Demons!"

"Gigantic man-eating spiders!"

"Ha! Evil Bug teacher!"

"Teacher possessed by Voldemort!"

"Vampires, Lots!"

"Dementors!"

The challenge went on for a bit more, each trying to add another monster to their slate. Harry finally yelled "Giant Three-headed Dog!"

"Hellhounds," Buffy returned fire.

"Werewolves!" Harry shot back

"Me too!"

"Oz doesn't count!" Harry cried. "Did he try to eat you?"

"No...um I don't think so...did you?" Buffy turned to Oz who shrugged.

"How old were you when the...werewolf?" Giles asked weakly.

"Uh...third year." Harry replied absently. He failed to notice his Uncle's growing distress.

"Killed a Vampire Master!" Buffy said loudly. "He was like ancient, or something, right? And a prophecy said I'd die and I still did it!"

"Prophecies! Don't even get in a prophecy competition with me!" Harry swung his hands about as he spoke.

"Oh come on, I'm the Chosen One"

"HA! Me TOO, there have to be fifteen bloody chosen ones!"

"Ooh! Stopped a demon from sucking the entire world into Hell!" Buffy grinned, suddenly remembering her final battle with Angel.

Harry hissed and ground his shoe into the carpet for a moment, obviously thinking hard.

"Well...Stopped Voldemort, and he'd have made hell on earth,"

"Phft," Buffy huffed and rolled her eyes, she began pretending like she was buffing her nails, "Boring."

"Boring! These people don't even call him by his name! Really evil. Oh and Stopped MacNair and Light of Hell thing! That's saving the world.

"Doesn't count you're the fricking Light of Hell, you can't get credit for stopping yourself!"

"Well Voldemort and all his little minions count. Also I don't think stopping your ex is really that spectacular!" Harry said. Xander clapped in the background, albeit very discreetly.

"Can't we all just agree you guys have had umm, exciting lives?" asked Willow timidly. "Also I think Giles is gonna faint."

Both teens turned to watch as Rupert Giles slid to the floor.

"Uncle Giles are you okay?" Harry asked dropping to his knees. He turned to Buffy in confusion. The slayer crossed the room kneeling beside Harry.

"Honest Giles we were just playing, Harry I aren't really mad at each other," Buffy appeased.

"Yeah, why would we be? Both stuck playing the hero gig." Harry swung an arm around Buffy who smiled in return. Giles waved their comments aside before lifting his chin to look at his nephew.

"What the hell kind of school did you go to?" he inquired incredulously.

-

Buffy preened nervously in front of the mirror.

"You look lovely dear," the mirror told her. Buffy tried to feel flattered but talking mirrors creeped her out. She couldn't get past the idea that the voice was really some pervert on the other side who was spying on her. There were so many interesting things in the wizarding world but it could be unnerving at times. Harry had taken them on a tour of Diagon Alley, as well a small village called Hogsmeade, he'd even pointed out Hogwarts. She hadn't been able to see it at first, it merely looked like a ruin, but when Harry took her hand she was able to get a glimpse of the place that Harry called home. They had held hands as they walked back. It had been sweet, she decided that she needed more sweet in her life.

Of course the trip hadn't been all fun and games. Willow hadn't been joking about magical bookstores. They had been stuck in one for what felt like hours. Eventually, Buffy, Oz, Xander and Harry had ditched the bookworms and had ventured into Muggle London. And Harry and Giles had been doing some work with finances. Buffy hadn't asked much about it, she just knew that when Harry got back he always seemed worn. So she'd joke with him until he was back to himself.

Buffy patted her skirt again. Her time with Harry was somewhat confusing. There were some moments that seemed so... intimate. Once while they were in muggle London, they had stopped to listen to some street performers. Harry had lifted her in the air and spun her around. Even when he stopped it still felt like the earth was spinning. Indeed, she never seemed to have steady ground. But, they always seemed to be dancing around what was between them. When he had told her he was leaving she had thought it best not to become involved, but she'd past involved awhile back and was stepping into uncharted territory.

She knew he liked her, they had that friendly pre-relationship fluttery feeling. But they hadn't wanted to start something that would have to be stopped. At the end of the week she'd be back in Sunnydale, and Harry would have to stay here. She saw that now. Harry was much more relaxed here, without the dark magic of the hellmouth weighing him down. Sometimes she wondered if he'd ever really be able to come back to Sunnydale. I wasn't just the magic, it was this place. The people here needed him. Harry might call what he had fame, but it was something much deeper. People, all kinds of people, respected Harry. They smiled more when he was there, they tried harder, felt safer. She saw it in little ways, ways Harry likely didn't notice. She frowned.

It all broke pieces off her heart. Because where in the world could they be together when each had lives on separate continents.

"Smile dear, you don't look as pretty when you frown," the mirror advised.

"Hmm, you ready Buffy?" Willow asked coming out of the bathroom. Buffy nodded distractedly. The young wicca smiled comfortingly and tried to distract her friend.

"Do you think the food will be different, We've eaten in restaurant so far...it all seemed the same, although that ice cream was wacky...and the whole raw liver thing I didn't quite understand...by maybe they have different kinds of food in a wizard home?"

"Harry says she's a great cook," commented Buffy. She turned back to the mirror. "Is this skirt too short, I don't want to look like some hussy...I mean maybe I should wear something more traditional...or maybe wear those robes that Harry bought me?"

"Chill Buffy, it's just dinner," came a voice from the doorway. Buffy looked up to see Xander in the hall, peeking into the room.

"Not just dinner, we're meeting the Weasleys!" Buffy bit her nail. "Harry said they're like his family, and Mrs. Weasley's the closest thing he has to a mom...what if she doesn't like me..."

"She'll like you Buffy, who couldn't like you," encouraged Willow.

"I'll gonna wear the blue dress, it's more classic..." Buffy rummaged though her bag and grabbed a dress before hurrying into the bathroom. Xander tried not to smirk.

"That will be the third outfit," commented Willow. "I'm lucky I was given enough bathroom time to brush my hair."

"Yeah well, the Buff likes to worry about stuff like that...still it's not like she and Harry are engaged or something...right?"

Willow shrugged. "It's a mess. She likes him, he likes her, they both fight evil, and ordinally this might sound like a match made in heaven...but the geographical distance is causing a problem."

"You don't sound worried," mentioned Xander.

"They'll figure it out."

"Eck, I hope I'm far away when they do. Seeing Buffy exchange spit with the brooding vampire was bad enough." Xander cringed at the thought.

"You don't like Harry?"

"No don't get me wrong, loads better. Has a pulse, has a sense of humor, enjoys a good Bond movie, free airfare to anywhere in the world...definitely better. Still can't you picture how horrifyingly mushy they are gonna be."

Willow smiled and looked dreamy, "Yeah, they'll be so cute."

"Many a man has been ruined by meeting a girl, that is all I'm saying. Remember me and Cordelia. I was a like puppy dog," Xander shuddered.

"Yeah, it's a shame what happiness can do to people."

"Happiness is fine, it's Love that screws you up."

Willow paused and looked at Xander, "That was almost astute, in a cynical way."

"Astu-what?" Xander scratched his head.

"Never mind."

Buffy emerged from the bathroom, now dressed in a blue summer dress, her hair hanging on her shoulders. "What about this?" she asked her two best friends.

"Great, you can't look better then that," stated Xander enthusiastically. Willow gave him a thumbs up.

A knock came from the door frame, "You guys ready?" Harry's voice asked.

"Yep," Willow replied. Harry entered and stopped when he spotted Buffy.

"I...ugh, you look very nice," he told her.

Xander rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me it's starting."

"What?" questioned Harry.

"Nothing," Willow covered. She latched onto Harry's arm. "So how are we getting there?" The Scoobies had all become rather used to the various forms of magical travel. They all had their favorites, Buffy preferred doing slide-along apparition with Harry. Willow and Xander seemed to enjoy Flooing, while both Oz and Giles thought portkey was the only way to go. Of course, they hadn't tried broom flight yet.

"Floo," Harry replied to the red head's delight.

Buffy moaned, "I don't like that one, makes me sick."

"But Buff we're traveling by fire, that's just neat," argued Xander. The gang trooped downstairs, Harry was once again disguised. Groups of people had taken to waiting in the Leaky Caldron once it was discovered that Harry was staying there. He'd become quite good at glamour charms, at the moment he looked like an old man with a big salt and pepper mustache. The disguises were usually good enough for Harry to slip away before the ruse was noticed. Giles kept arguing that they should find somewhere _else_ to stay, here he'd raise his eyebrows in Harry's direction. But the young man just said the Leaky Caldron was so much more convenient. Buffy took a deep breath and closed her eyes before stepping into the fireplace.

"The Burrow," she stated just as Harry and Giles had done. When the swirling finally stopped, she opened her eyes and stumbled out of the hearth.

"Welcome dear," a plump red-haired woman greeted.

"Mrs. Weasley?" Buffy questioned. The slayer walked forward stepping out of the way as Willow came bouncing along behind her. Buffy took the moment while the others arrived to examine the magical home. The house had a cluttered quality to it, bright colors and oddly slanting shelves filled her vision. She spotted a funny clock and pair of knitting needles in the corner that seemed to be operating on their own.

"Oh yes dear, you must be Buffy. Fred and George mentioned they had met you," the motherly woman said interrupting Buffy's scan of the house. Buffy looked around the room and for the mischievous twins they had meet in Diagon Alley yesterday. As of yet, the pair were no where in sight, probably safer that way. The two were largely the reason the Scoobie gang plus Harry was here. Xander had really wanted to see a magical joke shop, they had all laughed and been amazed over the items inside. However, the Scoobies had all jumped in surprise when two identical young man swooped down and lifted Harry away. In the end they hadn't been able to escape without promising to come over for dinner.

"You all must be starving," bemoaned Mrs. Weasley. "Nothing but pub fare, nothing against the Leaky Caldron, but really Harry I hope you are eating." Mrs. Weasley moved around the kitchen, checking on pots, waving her wand absently.

"I am Mrs. Weasley," responded Harry automatically. The Weasley matriarch paused for a moment and settled her eyes on Giles.

"Well hopefully this uncle is taking care of you, that other one, well anyway, it is nice to meet you...Mr. Giles was it."

"Please call me Rupert," the watcher said with a smile. The door to the kitchen opened and an older man with red hair entered.

"Oh, they've come have they?" Mr. Weasley attempted a smile, but a soft sadness seemed to exist in his eyes. Buffy suddenly remembered with a shock that these were Ron's parents. She noticed Harry shift uncomfortably.

"Rupert Giles," introduced Giles, holding out his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Arthur Weasley, so you're Harry's uncle. Quite an improvement against the other one I must say," replied the wizard with a chuckle.

"Can't be too hard," replied Giles with a grimace.

"Fred and George should be along any moment, then we can start dinner. GINNY!" Mrs. Weasley's voice broke into a yell without pausing for breath. The visitors all looked a little startled, Willow broke into a fit of snickers behind quickly raised hands.

"What?" came an somewhat irritated voice. Footsteps clomped down the stairs, a young a girl with red hair emerged. Her clothes were rather rumpled looking and hair un-brushed. She turned to look at her mother and froze as if stunned, her brown eyes opened wide.

"MUM! You didn't say we were having guests," the girl squeaked. She raised a hand and waved at the people below, "uh, Hi?"

"Hey Ginny," Harry greeted. The girl on the stairs broke into a huge grin. "Harry! You're back!" At this, the red head leapt off the stairs and swung her arms around Harry, catching him in a hug. Harry smiled back.

"See I told you I'd be back," said Harry with a grin.

Ginny punched him in the shoulder, "About time."

"Harry," interrupted Mrs. Weasley, suddenly the kindly woman seemed to be glaring down at the young man, "I don't think what you're doing is very safe. Goodness knows those terrible deatheaters need to be captured, but it isn't safe for you to be tracking them down on your own. Really dear, I was so worried about you," Mrs. Weasley clicked her tongue is disapproval as she spoke.

"Mrs. Weasley I haven't been tracking deatheaters," Harry argued. This had been one of the harder rumors to deal with when Harry ran into people. They all seemed to think he was some avenging warrior. Harry didn't know if they were disappointed in the fact that he wasn't. Mrs. Weasley didn't look convinced.

"But the papers said you captured Macnair?" she asked with raised brows.

"Well, yeah...with Buffy and well, everyone's help." Harry gestured to the group behind him. Ginny seemed just to have really noticed who was here.

"Wait, is one of you the Slayer?" the younger girl asked.

"Uh yeah," said a somewhat subdued Buffy. The girl broke into a wide smile.

'Oh my gosh! I wrote a paper on you...well not you, but the Slayer. By far the best part of DADA. You show all those guys how tough a girl can be," Ginny spoke with a great deal of excitement.

"Uh, thanks," replied Buffy, not sure how to respond. She eyed the red head who was still standing rather close to Harry. Buffy felt like demonstrating some of her Slayer strength but kept the instinct in check.

The fireplace flared up and two more people emerged.

"The gangs all here,"

"It seems," stated Fred and George Weasley.

"You're late," chided Mrs. Weasley, "They've been starving here waiting for you two to come home."

"Well, Merlin, if it weren't for –

"The two of us, snagging Harry here –

"And he's a wily bugger, –

"We might not have had the chance to catch up."

Molly Weasley merely rolled her eyes before shooing everyone out to the backyard where expanded tables had been arranged to fit everyone. Many dishes already covered the tables, preserving charms keeping insects away from the food. Xander had fallen into the rear and began chatting with the twins about their pranks, the older pair grinned, happy to have found someone who embraced their chosen profession. Oz and Willow were examining the plants in the garden, some of them were quite unusual. Willow shrieked in surprise when something that looked like a walking potato ran into the bushes.

"Garden Gnome," explained Harry. The young wicca raised her eye brows, clearly indicating that it didn't look anything like any garden gnome she had seen.

"Are you sure it isn't a little demon or something?" she questioned.

"Well, they do have a nasty bite but they're hardly dangerous," commented Harry. Willow continued to eye the vegetation warily.

"Harry dear would you mind fetching the chairs," Mrs. Weasley asked.

"No problem Mrs. Weasley" answered Harry. With a flip of his wand, comfortable chairs, one for everyone, appeared. Buffy, who was used to magic by now, went and found a seat, the other Scoobies followed. Buffy looked up to see the Weasleys quickly trying to cover up any surprise.

"I suppose it always slips our minds that you can use magic now," said Arthur, covering up their gobsmaked attitudes.

"Took me awhile too," said Harry with a shrug.

The dinner progressed quite nicely, the food was delicious, not all of it recognizable, but very good none the less. Willow and Mr. Weasley made quite the pair, each trading questions. Him about the muggle world, her about the magical. Both seemed to be enjoying the conversation very much, every once and awhile amazed "ohhhhs" could be heard as each marveled over one thing or another. The twins and Xander seemed to be keeping themselves entertained, Buffy kept an eye on their conversation with some worry. Harry seemed to be fending off Mrs. Weasley, the woman couldn't seem to stop adding food to his plate. In the end Harry just submitted to the inevitable, and focused on learning how his classmates were doing. He asked Ginny a few questions, as she seemed to be up on all the latest Hogwart's news. After Mrs. Weasley's maternal nature had been appeased, the red haired woman got into a quiet conversation with Giles. By the gazes the two were shooting Harry, it wasn't difficult to determine what the topic of conversation was.

"Dean's apparently dating a girl from Hufflepuff, you wouldn't know her I don't think, she's in my year. Apparently she's a muggleborn too, and a big Manchester United fan"

Harry laughed, "Trust Dean to fall for someone because of a football team."

"And then– "

"Ugh, I don't know how much more gossip I can stand," sighed Harry. "They never get things right," the dark haired young man complained. Ginny got a silly snooty look.

"Well, Mr. Potter, I will have you know all my sources are quiet reputable," Ginny managed to say before bursting into giggles.

"You should be a reporter," Harry advised her, "If your information is correct, then you're already better then Rita Skeeter," Harry shook his head remembering that particularly troublesome reporter.

"You're just trying to get a member of the press on your side," Ginny said gravely.

"Well it can't hurt," Harry smirked in reply.

"It's odd to have the press knowing about you," commented Buffy, entering the conversation.

"Odd and annoying," added Harry.

"That's right," said Ginny, "You've got to keep that you're the Slayer a secret from muggles right? Gosh, that must be hard, totally unfair when prats like Harry get all the glory."

"Hey!" complained Harry. The two girls laughed at the look on his face.

"Harry," Mr. Weasley called from across the table. "Dumbledore mentioned the offer he made you, are you thinking of accepting it. Be quite and honor, you'd be the youngest professor Hogwarts has seen," Mr. Weasley smiled as he spoke. The table grew silent as everyone turned to Harry, the Scoobies and Giles included. Harry smiled nervously, um he'd _forgotten_ to tell them about that.

"It's not a professorship...just an assistant, I...well it sounds nice but I don't know," replied a muffled sounding Harry.

"Harry what is this about?" Giles asked, leaning forward and fixing his nephew with a stare.

"Umm, well Dumbledore hired this professor for defense, but he'd gonna go home on weekends, so he might need a hand, and Dumbledore thought I might be good, and you know I could learn more..." Harry trailed off.

"It's quite an honor," added a proud Mrs. Weasley.

"Well you'll have to consider it," said Giles with raised eyebrows. Harry nodded.

After that the evening developed into a story hour, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley relating tales of Harry's visits to The Burrow. There was always a tinge of sadness in their voices when talk turned to memories of Ron and Hermione. Mrs. Weasley let her tears fall openly, laughing about some silly prank war Harry and Ron had fought against the twins. But, despite the sadness, it was really a happy remembering. One which seemed to do them all some good. Mr. Weasley in particular looked lighter on their leaving then their arrival.

When they were getting ready to Floo back, Harry pulled Ginny aside.

"I wanted to ask how everyone was doing?" he enquired softly. The tone of his voice filled with concern that quickly told the young woman it wasn't Hogwart's gossip that Harry was interested in.

Giny gave Harry a sad smile. "We're, well we're holding together. There are good days and bad days, days we all miss Ron so much. But we're doing better. Bills gonna try to get a house near here, and even Charlie may come home for a bit, he was offered a job by some Ministry research group. And Percy...well he's still being a prat, but I guess he's written Mum some letters, and talks to Dad at the office, so maybe that will be okay too. The twins are...well the twins. They've got a lot of money coming in from the shop, but so far they seem happy to stay here. Which is really good because I don't know what this house would be like without them." Ginny bit her lip, knowing that her two pranking older brothers were staying for her sake. Ginny smiled a little tearfully. "I always thought most of my brothers were prats, but it turns out that most of them are good guys, I wish I'd said that more," Ginny shook her head. She hadn't needed to say that she wished she had told Ron more.

Harry wrapped his arms around the slim read head, "Its gonna be better," he whispered into her hair.

"I hope so Harry, gosh I'm so glad you're back. It seemed so much worse when you were away, and not coming over. Like we lost you too," Ginny sniffled.

"Well I'm not going anywhere now," said Harry.

"But are you gonna stay?" Ginny's words were swallowed into the night air where they stood. Harry said nothing, only hugged the younger girl again, before they both went inside.

A/N: Orginally this was only going to be one really long update, but a friend of mine who reads the fic complained that I was taking too long. Hence it has been devided into two parts. I hope you enjoy, and that this epilogue serves to answer some questions.

Della


	21. Epilogue: Part II

Thanks are due to SeleneHarker for once again betaing this chapter for me, and very quickly too.

-

Epilogue: Part II

The Scoobies, minus Xander, were all back at the Leaky Cauldron. Xander and the twins had claimed to be going "out on the town". Harry had heard mention of firewhisky and decided to get his hangover potion ready for when Xander came home. If he remembered anything from Hogwarts, it was that Fred and George Wesley could drink anyone under the table. Quite a few had fallen victim to the pair, including Oliver Wood, Seamus Finnigan, Lee Jordan, and rumor had it, Hagrid as well. How the two thin gryffindors had managed to out drink Hagrid's huge girth was unclear. Harry personally suspected some trickery afoot, but hadn't voiced that comment to the twins.

Harry had just double-checked that he had the hangover potion before settling in a comfortable armchair in his and Giles's room. His Uncle was currently downstairs chatting with a patron of the Leaky cauldron. Giles had struck up a conversation with the man about vampires earlier that day, all and all many wizards weren't particularly familiar with vampires. As a rule, vampires tended to avoid wizards, unless they had them outnumbered. Apparently having the ability to conjure fire and create sunlight made them more dangerous prey. Muggles were a much easier food source. As a result Wizards tended to have some silly ideas about what vampires were like, much of their knowledge quite outdated. Giles seemed bent on correcting this error. Harry had the horrible idea that his Uncle might even be considering writing a book for the magical world.

Harry's door opened and the young man looked up. Buffy stood in his doorway, her blue dress from earlier still hanging around her gently. Harry smiled as she entered, but felt a flutter of unease as she moved hesitantly.

"So..." Buffy paused. "This is your home, isn't it?"

"What?" Harry's brow crinkled in honest confusion.

"This is your home here, I just...I thought that when your magic was better you'd be home for good...but that is stupid isn't it...cause this is your home."

"Buffy," Harry faltered.

"I saw you with them tonight, they need you. They all look to you."

"Don't remind me," Harry said softly. Buffy hadn't been the only to become aware of Harry's role in the wizarding world. Despite how much he wanted ignore the fact, Harry was starting to see that this place needed him. They needed him to rebuild the wizarding world that Voldemort had shattered. Dumbledore, despite being the brilliant leader he had always been, wasn't the person that the wizarding world looked to anymore. But if Harry and Dumbledore worked together, perhaps they could make a world everyone could be proud of. A world he could call home.

"I guess it is," Harry said a little louder. Buffy bit her lip and swallowed the lump which was growing in her throat.

"So that's it," Buffy said deliberately.

Harry glanced up confused. "What?"

"That's it, there's no real point in even trying. Xander is right we are totally cursed, none of us is ever gonna have a nice normal happy relationship. I mean like Angel wasn't enough of a hint fate just had to throw in wizard hero too!"

"I think you've lost me somewhere?" Harry stated again. He watched the blonde pace around his room.

"Well that's it isn't it." Buffy repeated. Harry just stared at her, Buffy sighed. "We" Buffy paused to gesture with her hands, "are never going to be able to be together. You're gonna fight your evil here and I'm gonna be in sunny hellmouth. There is no way that this..." Buffy clamped her hand over her eyes, obviously embarrassed by the tirade.

"Oh," Harry hadn't thought of that. He'd just...he'd assumed that she'd still want to try even with all the complications. Neither of their lives was simple.

Buffy had taken a seat in the chair across from his own. Her face turned away from him, she toyed with her hands. Harry leaned forward and reached out. She tried to look calm as his hand clasped hers, but he didn't miss the way her eyes skidded. She took a breath, looking up into beautiful green eyes.

Buffy seemed to fall out of her chair and into Harry's arms. Resting her head against his shoulder she closed her eyes and breathed him in. There was something so delightfully exotic about the smell of him.

"It doesn't have to be," Harry said softly.

"What?" Buffy muttered.

"Now you're the one being obtuse," Harry said with a grin.

"Don't begin throwing big words around little Giles," Buffy complained. Harry opened his eyes wide looking mildly offended. "I meant it in a good way," she added.

"You're dating Harry Potter baby," Harry said mimicking Xander's bravado. Buffy rolled her eyes. "There's no such thing as a long distance relationship when Harry Potter's your man," Harry's eyes twinkled. He seemed to enjoy his playacting. It was a rare event indeed when Harry could let go and just have fun.

"Stop that, it's a little scary how well you can do that," Buffy said half in fun and half serious.

"Really," Harry said sincerely. "I know it seems kind of much...but if anyone can make something this messed up work out, it has to be you and me."

"Fate does kind of owe us," Buffy said with a smile, repeating the words Harry had said on the first day. Harry pulled her close and kissed her.

It certainly did.

-

- Back in Sunnydale quite awhile later-

-

"Then she said, I'm not going to stand for this nonsense, and I said, yeah well suck it up--"

"Buffy you didn't!" her mother said. Joyce flipped a pancake as she scolded her daughter. It was once again a Summers/Giles family breakfast as they all waited for Harry. Willow and Xander had also stumbled over and were happily eating the breakfast that Joyce produced.

"You're right, I didn't. But I did spit on her doorknob," stated Buffy cheekily.

"Alright Buffster," commented Xander while Joyce frowned.

"Well I had to," Buffy appealed to her mother, "She was being such a monster about it...not a real monster like with fangs and claws and hair...although her fingernails were suspiciously sharp...I wonder."

"Buffy your Chemistry Professor is not a monster...eh not a real one," argued Willow.

"You don't know you haven't seen!" Buffy stamped her foot.

"Well find a spare piece of her hair and we'll test it," Giles stated patronizingly.

"You're all ganging up on me, Go bugger off!" Buffy looked supremely pleased at her bit of british slang.

"Is that English or Wizard speak?" Xander asked curiously.

Buffy frowned. "Well Harry said it so I don't really know." Giles didn't bother to inform them, instead he and Joyce shared a look which seemed to communicate their amusement at the entire conversation.

"Where is the Wiz anyway. Thought he was coming here for a bit." Xander looked around as if expecting Harry to pop out of thin air, which wasn't that unbelievable.

"Only for a day," Buffy pouted. "That dreadful Professor Smitherson always keeps him late," she complained. Everyone else smiled. While Buffy seemed to be in a constant war with Smitherson over her boyfriend's time, no one else would think to call the Defense teacher dreadful. He had been kind to Harry, managing to teach the wizard some new tricks. He also didn't seem to mind that Harry asked to have day off from time to time. Even so, it was plain to see that Harry was interested in his work.

-

-At Hogwarts

-

"See, just a little extra flip on the 'us'...that's it, great job," Harry nodded his head in approval.

"Thanks Harry!" The second year squeaked. She loaded up her bag and was the last to leave the classroom. Harry wandered about the classroom, picking up loose pieces of parchment. He had practically taken over the classes for the first and second years. He still felt uncomfortable leading the older forms, but that was largely because the seventh years had been his classmates and because of the DA he knew students scattered throughout the lower grades as well.

"Good afternoon Harry," greeted an older voice Harry knew well.

"Professor Dumbledore, how are you sir?"

Dumbledore entered and found his way to a chair, "Oh, fine fine, just old bones getting older." He smiled and his eyes twinkled warmly, almost enough for Harry to forget the truth in the headmaster's words.

"I was wondering if you were going to be at Hogwarts this weekend?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry nodded, "I'm due to go to Buffy's for dinner tonight, but this weekend is Mrs. Smitherson's birthday, so the professor is going home. I said I'd stay. If you don't mind...why do you ask sir?" Harry inquired.

"I'm afraid the ministry is experiencing some problems, I need to go in and help settle them. I just wanted to make sure that Hogwarts would be safe while I left," Dumbledore looked firmly at Harry. The old man's eyes seemed to shine with a sort of pride that made Harry uncomfortable.

"Uh...why are you worried about safety sir, is there..."

"Nothing to worry about Harry. Let us just say that the Ministry isn't the only place experiencing difficulties. I just want to make sure everything is safe for the students." Dumbledore's voice was calming but Harry couldn't help but wonder what difficulties the headmaster was speaking of. Still he didn't ask, just nodded his head.

"Have fun with your visit Harry," Dumbledore said as he rose to his feet. Harry grinned in agreement.

After Dumbledore left, Harry collected his papers and returned to the chambers that had been set aside for him. He rather liked the small suite hidden behind a picture of a young witch, who as Harry had learned, spent much of her time either gossiping with the other portraits or picking her nose.

Harry stated the password, and the picture swung open.

"Oh Harry, and they say that this Ravenclaw boy got caught with a girl on the astronomy tower, by Filch no less, not very smart eh, oh and- "

Harry let the door close, cutting off the young picture's never ending stream of information-you-just-have-to-know. He chuckled to himself thinking how much more use some like Lavender or Parvati could have gotten out of his room. He had barely listened to gossip when he was a student, of course a great deal of it had been about him...

Harry left his teaching aides in his room. Not needing anything else he headed towards the entrance hall. He passed a few students who greeted him as he passed. He waved to Professor Smitherson as the man was entering the great hall. The man waved cheerily back and winked. The professor seemed to have a rather vivid imagination when it came to the time Harry spent in Sunnydale with Buffy.

Harry walked through the twilight of the Hogwart's grounds and crossing the fence he reached the apparition line. With a quiet Pop, Harry traveled across the world.

Having startled Mrs. Sum- Joyce on quite a few occasions, Harry had taken to arriving in a park near the Summers' home and then walking to their house, politely knocking on the door. He thought that entrance might be more acceptable for Joyce. While she had accepted quite a bit about her daughter's life, the muggle in her sometimes liked things to be traditional. It had disturbed the woman more than a little to learn that Harry could just as easily pop into her daughter's bedroom, leaving her none the wiser. Not that Harry had.

Having left England sometime around six, he arrived during the morning on California time. Such travel tended to leave him with little sleep, but the trips were worth it. And, over time he'd been able to build up some resistance to the hellmouth's energy. Thus, he could spend almost a day here and feel no ill effects. He'd been hesitant to try for much longer, he knew that his fractured magical core still needed to heal.

Still Harry didn't mind walking to Buffy's house. It was nearing the end of fall and the beginning of winter, and while the temperature around Hogwart's was plummeting you'd never really know in Sunnydale. Harry wondered if all this flip-flopping would get to him someday. The terrible time difference, the vast magical difference, the sudden climate change, would these things eventually keep him away?

Would the magical world need him more?

These were questions Harry couldn't answer. Ones he didn't quite want to. He had decided to enjoy life as much as he could. What would come would come. Standing in the warm morning air Harry paused to look at Buffy's house. Inside he had a family waiting. It wasn't quite the family he had planned on. It wasn't the mother and father he had been born with, it wasn't his godfather, it wasn't even the friends he'd had for years. But regardless of its odd construction, it was his. And Harry fully planned to enjoy it for as long as he could. Family, it was all relative wasn't it?

-

-

-

A/N: What a fun trip it has been. I hope you enjoyed the fic. This epilogue is a little shorter than I had intended. Largely because there was an additional scene I had planned to include, but the more I thought about it the more I realized this one scene would really hamper any possible sequel plans.

However, for the moment I'll be leaving the HP/Buffy genre and venturing into new territory. Don't worry folks, I'm still interested in a possible sequel, hence the open ending, but I don't want to have a follow-up that is weaker than the original. I'm waiting for an idea that won't leave me alone, those are the only good ones. (Smiles, the fic I'm working on now has been quite insistent.)

Hope you enjoyed. This was the HP/BtVS crossover I wanted to read, and if you finished it, I suppose you wanted to read it as well. It has been a real privilege reading your responses. I might be venturing back for some editing now that it is complete.

Thanks,

Della.


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